The Raven and the Dove
by AmbersKnight
Summary: Set five years after Seeing Red. A trip to England provides Willow with a new mission with allies and enemies both old and new.
1. Prologue

THE RAVEN & THE DOVE

A BUFFY NOVEL

BY

RONNIE BRADLEY

All Buffy characters are owned by Joss Whedon. All original characters and concepts are owned by myself.

PROLOGUE

Joseph Merrick drove home early that Friday afternoon. It had been a rarity after so much hard work over the preceding months. The acquisition of rare books and manuscripts from around the world and in other dimensions had required him to work unsociable hours and he resented it.

He had been a member of the Watcher's Council, as it had existed originally, as had his father and several generations before him. Joseph had always hoped that he would graduate from the Academy and be a Watcher with a "Potential" or even the Slayer herself, as his father had. But he had shown more ability in book learning and chronicling than combat skills and as such he had been sent to work in the Council's vast library. There, amongst its shelves, lay the vast volumes of knowledge that were the individual diaries of the various Watchers, both past and present, and the unrivalled collection of books on demonology, magic, dimensions and other topics of arcane lore. And at the centre of it all, he controlled which book went where and kept a meticulous record. Like a fastidious librarian, he was as ruthless in chasing up borrowed books as any demon on a quest for some unholy trophy. He re-designed the catalogues and made everything easier for him to find, even if it caused the other Watchers to lose themselves amongst the maze and rows of shelves. For the first time, the library worked well, and whilst Joseph could be annoyingly meticulous at times, the Council were grateful to have such a man in charge of their most important weapon besides the Slayer herself – knowledge!

And so it was, one afternoon when he had taken time out to enjoy a restful week with his wife Michelle and son David, that he was called by a friend and former Watcher Gabriel Caine, and learned of the First's attack on the Council's offices and the deaths of all those inside. Joseph had felt relief and guilt over his absence and for a few weeks, enjoyed the respite of spending more time with his family and pondering what to do with his life.

It had been six months later that he was visited by Rupert Giles and Roger Wyndham-Price and asked to resume his duties as Head of the Council's library, and that he would be in charge of not only running the library, but ensuring the acquisition of replacement volumes. Over the next few years, he succeeded in restoring most of the volumes and all of the diaries lost by the bomb blast. He felt respected and he rose to the challenge well, impressing even himself. He was happy, but it had meant that he had lost time with his family. And so on this bright, sunny Friday afternoon, he had decided to take the weekend off. He had imagined a picnic on the beach near Brighton where he lived, and a chance for him to catch up with his wife's work and to see his son, something he did all too rarely.

He turned into the long country lane that led to his mansion. The Merrick fortune over the generations had allowed him the luxury of living as a member of the Upper Class, something he admitted to relishing. He had found the drive relaxing, especially as he had avoided the rush of traffic that happens out of London from 4.00pm onwards.

He was excited and found he couldn't contain the smile on his lips. Up ahead he saw the oak trees that marked the start of his final mile, and above them, black smoke. Joseph's smile turned into a gasp. His house was the only building on this stretch of road and he pressed down on the accelerator of his car as his mind rushed with panicked scenarios. As he arrived through the gates he saw, to his horror, his home.

The first floor seemed to have completely disappeared, leaving behind a smouldering mass of glass, brick and wood. The ground floor was in flames, which seemed to be lapping and pushing at every window, as if it were trying to escape from it's own birthplace. In the driveway, he could see some of the servants sprawled out. They were blackened by smoke and some were vomiting uncontrollably. Some lay with their eyes closed, a vision of terror etched on their faces. Joseph stopped the car at the side of the driveway and rushed towards them. As he did so he noticed Whittaker, the old man who had been his butler and confidante for many years, struggling out with Simon, the young son of the local Grocer, who did deliveries and got a handsome tip from Michelle.

"Whittaker. What's happened here?" Joseph's face was awash with fear. "Where are Michelle and David?"

"Still inside Sir, I think. They were upstairs but I couldn't get to them Sir." Whittaker answered, a hint of shame in his voice.

"Damn it!" Joseph went back to the car, and removed the back portion of the rear seats. He took out of the compartment his broadsword and automatic pistol, and started for the house. As he approached the front door, he could feel his skin begin to itch under the heat. Still he went on, his mind fixed only on finding his loved ones.

Joseph ran through the front door and felt the heat attacking him as if he were an intruder. "Michelle! David! Where are you?" He could hear footsteps at the rear of the house and smiled. _They are alive at least,_ he thought and he headed towards the footsteps.

He turned the corner that led into the corridor that housed the study and private library and saw two men, dressed in evening suits and carrying sabres, flanking a third figure. This figure was clearly human, clearly female, and Joseph recognised her instantly. She was dressed in business clothes although she covered these with a large cloak, as if she had decided that the cloak was a necessary fashion accessory. She was roughly 5 foot 8, slim and slender with pale skin and flowing brown hair that matched her chestnut eyes.

"Margaret! How dare you! Why are you here?" As he asked she turned and for the briefest of seconds he saw in her grasp papers he recognised as coming from his private collection, his own family history. "You can't take those! Have you no idea the damage you could do with that information?"

The woman smiled at him. "Of course I do, Joseph. And so does she. It is time. We both know it and it is time to settle this once and for all." As the last of her words left her mouth, she gestured to the two men, who drew their sabres, and leapt at him.

Joseph parried the first blow and ducked underneath the second sword as it swung. He was glad that he had learned some fighting skills at the Watcher's Academy, but he knew that he was outmatched, both in number and skill, by the two men he now faced. He did his best to duck and weave, trying to find an opening in the defences of his attackers, but they were moving with an almost ungodly speed and he could feel himself losing the battle, taking small nicks and cuts and scrapes with every blow they ushered.

From behind him, somewhere above, he heard the unmistakeable voice of Michelle. She was speaking Latin at a furious pace and as he translated the words in his head, he ducked as she finished her spell. A fireball blazed from the first floor and found its target. One of the swordsmen screamed, engulfed by the flames, as if the flames themselves were a swarm of insects, flying and surrounding and biting at him. He dropped his sword and Joseph could not help but be shocked by the violent nature of his opponent's demise. He turned to look up at his wife, and saw her standing there, hugging David tightly, blood dripping from her head and round her eyes as if she were crying. But she was smiling. David too was bleeding but he seemed less wounded than his mother. Joseph was glad of this. David was only 14 and still had his life ahead of him. It was a life Joseph was determined to keep for him, no matter what the personal cost.

The sword blade came down at Joseph's head and he blocked it almost without effort. He swung back, aiming a low blow to the man's abdomen and succeeded in at least wounding him partially. The man went into a rage, fixing Joseph with a steely gaze, and attacked. The swings were fast and direct and Joseph found himself nearing the front of his house again. For the first time since hearing the footsteps, Joseph could feel the heat of the flames. He fought continuously, determined that this man would not be his undoing. He could hear Michelle muttering once more in Latin. He smiled, knowing that with his wife at his side, there was no danger he could not face, no opponent he could not overcome.

Joseph barely heard the first shot, but saw the muzzle flash from the corner of his eye. He could hear his wife now, her voice weaker, the breathing heavier, more marked. The second shot was clearer, and it thundered out of the gun. Joseph dared to look up, to see his wife, his inner voice praying that all was well. But he saw that Michelle was wounded, both in the upper arm and in her chest, life slipping from her with every gasp of breath. She held out her hands as if reaching for him, as though her very action would protect her somehow from the bullets ripping through her. Joseph now heard a third shot, one that he saw enter her skull and exit with a ferocity that threw his wife's body backwards onto the upper balcony. Tears welled in his eyes in that moment, and his heart sank. But then another sound caught his attention, the sound of a young child crying. _David!_

He turned his attention once more to the swordsman, who seemed to have paused, as if allowing Joseph the moment to grieve, or to revel in his pain. Either way, the swordsman now began his attack again in earnest, the thrusts and slashes all the more ferocious. Joseph knew his strength was waning, knew he had little time left, but he was determined to fight on, determined to use every ounce of life still left to him to reach his son and get him to safety.

"You didn't think you were going to stop us did you Joseph? Or her?" The woman had a haughty tone to her voice, as if she considered him a mere insect for the swatting. "Now unless you want your son to share your wife's fate, you will tell me where the journal is."

Joseph smiled at her. "You will not get it. You will not have it. She will not bring the chaos of dark magic to the fore. The Raven will not succeed." He laughed at them both. He had to buy time. Time enough to reach his son, or for David to escape or for help to arrive. Then, as if on cue, he heard in the distance the sound of the approaching sirens of the emergency services. Fire engine, ambulance and police sirens melting together to create one wave of joyous noise.

He barely had time to re-focus as the blade from the swordsman came back down on him, threatening to split him in two. He raised his own sword towards the oncoming blade, only realising too late that the downward swing had been a feint. Joseph saw the swordsman, in one fluid move, change the direction of the sword, pirouetting and slicing clear across his belly. He could feel the blood, and feel his stomach and intestines trying to spill out. Joseph could feel his life draining from him, and he looked upon Margaret with disdain and at his murderer with fear. At that moment, all he could think of was David.

The intruders saw the approaching convoy of help and calmly began to move to the back of the house. "As long as that book remains out of our possession, none of your family or friends will be safe." And then they were gone, in the blinking of an eye.

David ran downstairs, tears streaming his cheeks. "Dad! You're going to be all right, Dad. The ambulance is here and they will take you away and you'll be right as rain in no time. Don't die too, Dad! Please don't die!"

"David, there is something you must do for me." Joseph coughed up his words along with the blood that was filling his lungs. "You must find Rupert Giles. Tell him he must secure the journal. Tell him that I have left a clue to its whereabouts in my safe. He's smart; he'll figure it out. Tell him he must ensure the Raven does not succeed; she must not bring down the balance. He must find… cough the… cough cough entwined. The… cough cough cough …one… cough cough ….without…"

David Merrick wept at his Father's dead body. It took two men and Whittaker to pry him away. David Merrick was an orphan.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter 1

_**London, England**_

Willow Rosenberg opened her eyes as she felt someone gently nudging her awake. She looked to her left and saw the beaming face of Dawn Summers. "We there already?" She asked, smiling back at her travel companion.

"Pretty much. Just got the signal to fasten our seatbelts." Dawn replied.

Willow sat herself up from her sleeping position and fastened her seatbelt. The flight from Rome to London had taken far quicker than she had realised. She rubbed her eyes to wipe the remains of sleep from them and looked around the first class section of the plane. _One good thing about being a Watcher, _she mused, _always first class._

Willow looked at Dawn again. She could tell that her young companion was excited and nervous about the next few days. She was being sent to London to sit a final exam, both theory and practical, that would bestow upon her the title of Watcher, should she pass. Willow was confident in Dawn's abilities.

Since she had moved to Rome six months ago, Willow had been helping Buffy with teaching for the new Slayers and the Watchers they would have. She had taught the Watchers some very basic spells and incantations and had been keen to impart her knowledge of meditation techniques as well. But her main teaching discipline was computers and how to access information online, information that could be the difference between life and death for a Slayer and her Watcher. Willow had also been asked to archive the Watchers vast new library, which she had promised she would do at some point, although it seemed there had been objections from traditionalists within the Council. Amazingly, Giles had not been amongst these objectors as he had seen the value of archiving, even at the risk of having to deal with his nemesis, the computer.

Willow was looking forward to seeing Giles again. She hadn't seen him much in the last 18 months and she was happy for the opportunity to spend some time with her friend. He had helped her through the most painful part of her life, the loss of Tara, and she had never really had a chance to properly thank him for that.

Feeling the aircraft land, she looked out of the window to see the grey, drizzly rain that was rapping the window beside her. She looked at what she was wearing, blue jeans and a white t-shirt, along with a small leather jacket, and cursed her decision not to have a sweater at the ready. Dawn, who had bothered to wear a sweater along with her jeans, had already uncoupled her seatbelt and was reaching up to the overhead compartment to fetch her small beauty case. "Gotta look good for Giles and the Council. Might win me some points. What do you think?"

Willow smiled, still slightly sleepy. "If you think it will work, go for it. But I reckon they will be more interested in your smarts than your lip gloss." Willow looked once more out of the window. The first time she had been in England it was after she had tried to end the world in a magic-fuelled, grief stricken rampage. She was taken to England after being stopped and had been helped to overcome her addiction by Ms Harkness and the other witches at the Coven. Giles had been supportive, knowing too well how grief can make even the most rational of minds turn their thoughts to violence, and she had been appreciative. But she couldn't hide the feelings of loss for Tara, feelings she still had, even five years on. She still felt the pain, mostly at night. She had learned to control her pain, but she knew nothing would ever completely heal the wound that Tara's murder had left. Nothing and no one could, not even Kennedy.

Kennedy had been sweet, and wrong. Willow had hoped that if she tried another relationship, she could somehow bury her pain. But for Willow, Kennedy represented nothing but solace, nothing more than a quick fix to dull the ache and fill the void in her soul. Kennedy had considered herself a worthy replacement for Tara, which Willow knew had been her first mistake. Willow knew the relationship was finite, but Kennedy had been determined to hang on. So Willow reluctantly became Kennedy's Watcher, in the hope that maybe she would feel something deeper for her if they spent more time together. But she didn't, and soon the novelty wore off and Kennedy began to see that Willow, in spite of all her efforts, still loved Tara and always would. It caused the inevitable rift in their relationship, which turned bitter in the final weeks before Willow demanded a transfer. Kennedy willingly accepted the transfer and Giles sent Andrew, of all people, to be the new Watcher and Willow moved to Rome to help Buffy. It had been for the best, for both of them, but Willow was sad that it had taken so long and gone so far.

She stood up now, and headed out of the plane. She couldn't wait to see everyone again. Somehow she felt at home here, at peace. She had only ever felt it when she was in England. It had been one of the reasons her training had gone so well. When things looked their worst, Willow imagined herself back in England, and somehow found a serenity there that was non-existent anywhere else.

Rupert Giles waited with nervous anticipation in the Lounge at Heathrow Airport. The flight had been delayed and he had been waiting an hour longer than expected. He wasn't overly anxious but he detested airports in general and Heathrow was no exception. He also despised the fact that whilst he had hoped to greet them in a relaxed manner, the Council had insisted on a professional meeting, and that meant a suit. It wasn't that he despised suits, but he knew that Dawn would be nervous enough without it looking like business right from the off. But the Council had been insistent, and he had relented in order to keep the peace. Deep down though, he knew that it wasn't the late plane or his choice of attire that was worrying him, it was the passengers he was expecting that were the source of his nervousness.

He had placed a great deal of reputation on Dawn. Others in the newly reformed Council of Watchers, namely Roger Wyndham-Price, had seen Giles' time as Watcher as an anomaly, not something to make policy on. But Giles had argued that the students in his care, even Dawn, were as ready to face the tests and become Watchers as any in the Academy. Roger had asked for proof, and for that he gave them Willow, who passed the Council's tests with ease. Roger had been impressed, so much so he had allowed the rest of the Sunnydale survivors to skip grades and take only those classes that dealt with areas of Watcher training that they were unaware of. Andrew had passed and Buffy had been allowed her training role on merit, which merely left Dawn.

She was younger than most of the graduating Watchers, something that others in the Council were keen to point out to him. Giles had, however, re-assured them that she would pass first time. So now his pride, and his reputation within the Council, rested on Dawn Summers.

But Willow also occupied his mind. He knew that she had been in Rome for the last six months after her break-up with Kennedy. From what he had learned from Buffy, the split had been less than amicable but that Willow was in some ways relieved to be out of the relationship. He knew that for the past few years, her trips to England had been more about contemplation and repairing her spirit than actual fun, and he was sure that this time would be no different. He knew the cause of her inner sadness, and for that he had no cure. The cause was still Tara.

He had always liked Tara. Since meeting with Willow she had grown from a shy, insecure girl to a strong, morally centred woman. She had become the embodiment of all that Willow saw as good and right in the world, so much so that when she was murdered Willow had lost all hope. But she had also been a calming figure to Buffy and her friends. She had been the most mature, most sensible of all the young students that had inhabited the ranks of the "Scooby Gang" throughout the years, and had been a shoulder to cry on for most of them at some point. He missed her, and he knew that whether she would admit it or not, Willow missed her too.

Giles looked up and saw the queue of people disperse from Customs and meet and greet and hug their nearest and dearest. He stood up and began to scan the crowd, looking for familiar figures, and soon he found them. He smiled warmly as he caught Willow and Dawn's collective gaze. He walked over to them, hugging them both.

"It's good to see you both." He said with genuine affection in his voice. "I trust the flight was okay?"

"It was fine." Replied Willow. She had missed the over-protective, cautious side to Giles. "The only really scary part was knowing how to spend the time. I mean, too short for a decent movie but too long to play cards. It's a nightmare." Willow's smile beamed and Dawn couldn't help but giggle at her friend.

Giles smirked; it was good to see Willow in such high spirits. "Well, I hate to spoil the momentum but it will be a long journey down to my home so I've arranged a night's stay in a local hotel. That way you can get a good night's sleep before Dawn goes to the Council's HQ and I can take Willow down to my home."

Dawn's face went from over exuberance to worried seriousness in an instant. "What are my chances, Mr Giles, in all seriousness?"

"I would say that if you stand by your training and show your ability to adapt and show your impressive knowledge of demons and the natural aptitude for research you have then the tests should be little more than a formality". Giles smiled at her warmly as he finished his answer. He was confident in her abilities; he just hoped she wouldn't crack under the pressure. "Just be yourself and you will be fine. You have surpassed even my expectations and I'm sure the Council will be more than willing to give you Watcher status at the end of the testing procedure."

Dawn gave him a wary, nervous smile. "So, no pressure then."

"Well, apart from the fact that I've bet an entire month's wages on you in an office pool."

Dawn looked at Giles with a shocked expression, only to find a mischievous smirk emanating from his usually calm face. Dawn launched into a grin that turned quickly into a relaxed laugh. "Well, I hope I get some of the winnings then."

"Oh, I'm sure we can arrange something in the region of a few pence. After all, overheads and expenses of all kinds need to be considered. Not cheap, you know, betting on you."

"So which Hotel, Giles? And don't tell me that the Watchers Council can only afford a flea-bag hotel for us because I may have to consider my position." Willow decided to keep up the friendly banter.

"Don't worry. 5 stars and separate rooms should keep us all happy. I have even insisted on cable, or at the very least satellite, so that you can feel right at home with large remote controls for the television."

---

Wyngarde Castle 

She sat at the far side of the room, staring at the door directly in front of her. Between them was a long dining table, the kind that are usually only brought out to feed mass throngs at wedding receptions.

She herself was a slender woman with long, raven-coloured hair and pale skin. The paleness was further amplified by the use of black make-up to highlight her eyes, lips and nails. Her clothing also seemed to come from the gothic style and she gave the impression of someone attempting to look like Morticia Adams, and surpassing her beauty and allure. She was beautiful, and yet something in her hazel eyes seemed to denote wisdom beyond her years. As if the twenty-something woman that sat on the elegantly decorated chair was far older and wiser than her limited years gave her credit for. But her eyes also showed a coldness, as if deep down inside where many would hope to find a flame they would find only ice. The effect had struck both fear and awe and love in her servants in equal measure.

The room itself was lit with candles mounted on the wall with black, gothic holders. The walls themselves were stone but draped with elaborate tapestries depicting violent struggles through the ages. All of them seemed to depict women, in one way or another, enslaving men. From medieval knights to Napoleonic soldiers to men in WWII uniforms and men in modern attire, their deaths looked both cruel yet strangely sensual. It was as if, like some Praying Mantis, the women had used the men for sexual pleasure before their agonising deaths.

A breeze blew in from the window which, although it was daylight outside, had a curtain draped across it. The breeze met with the flames of the many candles around the room and although each danced with the wind like some mindless jig to an inaudible tune, the flames did not go out. They seemed to lift and turn as if deliberately dodging the current of the breeze, mocking it as it flew past, before returning to the wick of the candle.

Footsteps approached the heavy wooden door to which the woman had sat herself in front of. The steps were hurried and nervous, and the woman could sense that bad news was travelling towards her room. She smiled, a thin and evil smile that could have chilled to the bone anyone who had looked upon it. Medusa herself could not have, in that moment, frozen anyone in her gaze as she could have with her smile.

The door opened and a young lady walked in. Behind her two large men, wearing dinner suits and carrying sabres, flanked her and entered.

"Well, did you get what you were sent for?" Asked the woman, who could see and feel the answer before she had even asked the question.

Margaret faltered, unable to look directly at the lady in front of her. "We were partially successful, Lady Morgan. We found some of the family archives and treaties on Avalon but we were unable to locate the journal. It was not in the house."

Morgan Le Fey rose to her feet and crossed the floor without seeming to touch the ground. "And so you kill both him and his witch wife and I have nothing to show for it. You have failed me Margaret."

"No, your Highness. The boy is still alive. He has been asked to contact Rupert Giles. Something about a clue as to how we find the journal has been left in the library. Our insiders at the Council could keep a watch and when the time is right we can retrieve the journal. However, he did tell the boy to ask for Giles to seek the entwined, My Lady".

"He spoke of the Entwined? And you let the boy live? The Entwined must not be allowed to interfere with all of this. I have waited centuries for the signs to be right, I will not allow the fumblings of a few old men, who have no concept of what they are doing, stop my acquisition of power."

"But the boy has had no chance to speak to him yet, My Lady. As far as I am aware, they have yet to contact Rupert Giles to even ask him to look at the boy." Margaret's breathing was erratic and she struggled to maintain some sort of calm amidst the rising terror in her soul.

"Where is the boy now? Tell our insiders to stop the boy from talking to Rupert Giles. If they fail, then I will hold you personally responsible, Margaret. Now leave me, but these two charming men can stay. I have needs that require fulfilling and these men seem up to the task." The smile seemed playful, flirtatious and her voice had a sensual, lustful quality about it that suggested to the men that something more pleasurable than their usual chores was on the horizon. Both men's smiles beamed in willingness.

---

It was eleven o'clock at night and Giles was finding it difficult to sleep. He couldn't put his finger on why, other than nervousness about the tests the following day. He looked at the clock and turned away in frustration. He was tempted to phone for some sort of sleeping tablet or glass of warm milk, if not something stronger, if it weren't for his determination to be awake fresh and early for Dawn's meeting with the Council.

He had done this so often with the others, why was he so nervous about Dawn. Was it her age? Was it that so much of his reputation was staked upon the outcome? Or was it, as he suspected, merely the realisation that one more of his "family" had grown up and was about to fly the nest?

He pondered that last thought, and accepted the very real possibility that he was getting old. He had been proud to see Buffy grow up and show her worth and the others too but with Dawn it was the final time. After this he really was going to be the one they only visited on occasion. He was worried they wouldn't need him anymore. Giles shook his head in frustration of his selfishness. He was proud of Dawn, and of all of them.

Then perhaps it was Willow. In spite of her good nature, he had noticed a weariness in her that he had hoped was merely travel fatigue but now doubted that it was. He hoped that in the next few days she would confide in him what was wrong and they might find some way of helping her cope, even if it was only a shoulder to cry on.

Giles could feel his eyelids shut with tiredness. _Thank you_, he thought to himself as he thanked whatever benevolent spirit had let him rest. It was just as he was falling asleep that he heard the phone beside him ring.

At first he wanted to ignore it, to curse the hotel people for even trying to ring him at such an ungodly hour but his senses woke him again and he wondered if the same spirit he had thought benevolent a moment ago was in fact a trickster. He cursed under his breath and picked up the receiver, ready to scream abuse at the person responsible.

"Hello, Rupert? Are you awake?"

Giles stared blankly into the void for a moment, allowing his mind to fully digest the ludicrous nature of the question. "Not at all. I had to get up to answer the phone. Who is this?"

"Sorry, Rupert. It's Roger Wyndham-Price. I'm in the lobby. We need to talk. Right now!"

Giles sensed the authoritative urgency in his voice. "I'll be down in five minutes."

"No. What we need to discuss is too important to have anyone else overhearing. I'm coming up."

"Very well." Giles shook his head and wiped what sleep remained in his eyes away as he quickly got dressed. He hoped that this was nothing to do with the test but was sure that if there had been a problem there he would have been informed long before now.

Five minutes later Roger Wyndham-Price entered Giles' room. He was a short man, old and stern faced. Giles had often wondered how such a serious and studious man as Roger could have had a son as different as Wesley, but Giles had convinced himself that Wesley was more from his Mother's side. But even Giles had noticed a change in Roger's demeanour whenever the subject of Wesley, and his untimely death, came up. In the end, Wesley had shown himself to be quite the efficient Watcher and demon hunter, something that Roger was quietly proud of.

"What has got you so worried that you need to see me at eleven o' clock at night, Roger? Couldn't this have waited until morning? Is the test still on? Is there a delay?"

"The test will proceed as planned, Rupert. I for one am looking forward to seeing your young protégé in action. No, we have a serious situation. Joseph Merrick and his wife were killed today in an attack on their home."

"My God! What happened?" Giles' senses buried all sleep and sarcasm as his professional nature over-rode all other thought processes.

"From what we have gathered after talking to members of his staff, there were three assailants, one woman, two men. They blew up the house, possibly using magic, nearly killing everyone inside and attempted to raid his private library. The woman seemed to be quite adept in the use of dark magic whilst the men were able to use their swords with superhuman speed and strength. The woman, Margaret is her name according to the witnesses, shot and killed Michelle Merrick after Michelle had killed one of the intruders. Joseph, who was attempting to defend himself and reach his wife and son, killed the other swordsman. The woman and the other swordsman then vanished, some sort of teleportation spell or invisibility charm."

"I see. What are the Council doing about it?"

"That's where you come in. Joseph's butler, Whittaker, is our main witness and according to him Merrick spoke to his son, David, before he died. We don't know what was said and when we asked the boy he told us his message was for you and you only. We've been trying to contact you ever since then."

"I am on the phone you know. Plus I left my details of where I would be this evening with the Secretary." Giles could see from Roger's expression that this was neither the time nor the place for discussions about phone etiquette. "I'm sorry, it's the tiredness talking. Where is the boy and this Whittaker now?"

"They are being looked after in our private hospital. Seems Margaret made a specific threat to go after Merrick's friends and family so we have the boy safely hidden away. We need you to talk to the boy as soon as possible."

Giles looked at the old man. "Friends? Does Caine know?"

"Not that I'm aware of. Certainly the Council hasn't informed him but we can't keep it out of the newspapers and television news for much longer. He will find out, sooner or later."

"He could prove a costly liability. Especially after last time."

"We have to hope that in this instance he will see reason."

"I hope you are right." Giles was less than pleased that the disgraced former Watcher should be allowed near such a delicate situation, but he also knew that Caine and the Merricks were old friends. He had to hope that reason, not passion, would keep Caine in line. But he knew that he was the last one to advise such a strategy. He had been known to put his friends, and his Slayer, ahead of Council orders.

Roger's face became even sterner looking, if such a thing were possible. "Rupert, you know what this means if they went specifically for Merrick's private library. What if it's true?"

"We have never been able to prove or disprove the legend. This attack may be coincidence but if it is related to Joseph's theory about the Arthur legend then we need those documents."

"We have a team at what is left of his house now, trying to find any evidence but it seems they wiped it out completely. I suggest, Rupert, that whilst Miss Summers is involved in her examination, you and Miss Rosenberg meet with Whittaker and David. Willow's knowledge of darker forces may prove useful."

"I don't like getting Willow near any dark power. Even after so long it still shakes her."

"I understand your reservations, Rupert, but we have no real alternative. We will have enough on our plate with the Coven when they find out one of their own has died, especially her mother, without asking them to help investigate as well. If there is any truth at all to Merrick's speculations, then time is too much against us to bring in anyone else. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we must put Miss Rosenberg back on active duty."

"Very well. I'll speak to them both tomorrow morning but I want your word that you will look for someone to replace Willow as quickly as possible."

"I will. I promise."

---

It was the twilight hour of dusk and she sat in the gazebo at the end of the large garden that embraced the mansion where she lived. It was cool, and she had wrapped herself in the cloak of her order, the hood over her head to keep out the light mist of rain that seemed to fall here every evening. She could feel the slight chill on her skin but she paid no heed to it. She could feel a greater chill within – a chill that had consumed her since her arrival.

She wasn't sure how long it had been since she had first arrived, but she was sure it was years. The time here seemed to have no meaning and she had rarely kept track. But every week, as much as she was able to gauge it as a week, she had felt compelled by a single emotion to come out here to the gazebo – that emotion was unremitting sadness. It was a moroseness that ate away at her and made her feel at once claustrophobic whilst she was indoors and lost and alone in a place full of people. For some reason she had always found peace from the cold in the gazebo. The shade from the trees above gave some protection from the elements but not much. But although she was less afraid in the gazebo, it did not stop the burning pain in her soul. She felt lost, alone and moreover, she felt grief.

From the vantage point in the first floor window, the two women watched over the young woman in the gazebo. One was older, perhaps in her early fifties, and had long black hair that showed small tints of grey around the roots. The other was much younger, with far longer, blonde curls. Both wore what appeared to be ceremonial robes, medieval in design and cloaks, similar to the ones worn by the lady in the gazebo.

"And you say she has done this at the same time every week, Diana?" Asked the older woman as she continued to look out onto the gazebo.

"Yes, Lady Nimue. She is silent, she never runs out screaming but walks to the gazebo with a silent tear in her eye. I have observed her now for two months and the pattern has remained unchanged. She is often sombre, but at this time she cannot seem to contain her inner pain."

"Does Heather know? The two of them seem so close."

"I'm not sure, but if she does she has said nothing to the rest of us. She is only a child, perhaps she does not understand."

Nimue smiled. "Perhaps you are right. Has our new guest arrived?"

"She has, My Lady. She is confused, as we all are when we arrive."

"Go to her. See that she is ready for supper. I will speak to her tomorrow morning and explain what has happened. Meantime I think I will have a talk with our twilight gardener."

"Very good, My Lady." The young girl left, departing reverentially before hurrying down the hall.

Nimue turned and walked down the stairs and down a small corridor that led to a back door and the garden. She crossed the immaculate lawn without making a sound, as if gliding to her target. She walked up the three small steps that led into the gazebo and for the first time, made a deliberate sound.

The young woman was startled, and moved a few feet away from the entrance. Small strands of blonde hair could be seen dangling out of the hood she continued to wear. She had been sobbing, small spots on her dress proof of where the tears had fallen.

"I am sorry to disturb you, my child, but Diana has become worried about your weekly sojourns here, and so am I." Nimue's voice was calm and soothing, within the voice was the tone of genuine concern.

"I am sorry, Lady Nimue. But I can't seem to stop the tears when I am here. I come here, every week, it would seem, at the same time without fail. I'd love to say it is just the dusk but sometimes it is already dark and I still cannot help but come here. I feel safe here yet I don't know why."

The young girl began to sob again, and Nimue placed her hand on her shoulder. "It seems you have been doing this for several months now, perhaps even years. I wish I knew what was causing it, I really do. When you came here, like us all you had no memory of your life before your arrival. Memories can only cause us to lose our concentration and much depends on our being focused. But maybe, in some part of your mind, there is a little part of you that still remembers. It is all I can think of. Perhaps if we prepared a ritual, we could banish these feelings and you could be at peace."

"Something tells me that it will take more than magic to cure my pain. I think only answers can."

"Then we will find those answers. I promise you. Now you really ought to get inside. You know how upset Heather is without you there. The child has become rather attached to you."

"She's a sweet child. She can be tiresome at times but it's not her fault. I don't mind looking after her."

"I'm glad to hear it." Nimue's smile beamed to the young woman, who did her best to smile back. Nimue rose and began to make her way from the gazebo to the house. She turned and noticed that she was not being followed. "You really ought to come in."

"I will, My Lady. I just need a few moments to compose myself."

"Very well." Nimue took a few steps and then turned back again. "Tara, we will find the answers, but I am worried that you may not like them, or the questions they raise."

Tara Maclay nodded. "Maybe. But if it can help me to understand why I feel this way, then the answers will be worth it." She watched Nimue nod and then walk away. Tara sat back down; listening to the breeze as it gently swayed the branches of the Willow tree that hung overhead. She wiped her eyes dry, composed herself, and left the gazebo for the back door of the mansion.

END OF CHAPTER


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter 2

_**Wyngarde Castle, Welsh-English border**_

Morgan Le Fey arose from her bed. She padded over to the far side of her boudoir where a robe awaited her. Her back was adorned with a startling tattoo of a raven – diving as if ready to strike. It seemed almost alive as she breathed in and out.

She put on her robe and glanced back at her bed. The two men she had entertained were still there, but they were no longer smiling. Their faces contorted in terror, their lifeless bodies little more than grotesque shells. Their eyes were white, as if they had rolled backwards in the midst of what terrible pain had visited them.

She opened the door of her bedroom and entered a small antechamber where wine and fruit awaited her on a table. In the corner, a barely-clad servant tried to make herself as hidden as possible.

"Come here, wench." Ordered Morgan as she filled the crystal goblet with wine.

The young girl came forward, her arm still red from the newly acquired tattoo – a small raven in the same pose that adorned Morgan's back. She was terrified, the fear causing her hands to shake and her body to shiver uncontrollably. "You asked for me, my Lady?"

"Go and fetch Margaret!"

"At once, My Lady." The young girl turned and walked to the door as if some catastrophe would befall her if she didn't get out as quickly as possible.

Morgana sat in her chair, sipping wine and eating a newly skinned pear, listening to the footsteps of the young woman head towards Margaret's room. She enjoyed the sensation of power the fear of her subordinates gave her. She gained almost as much pleasure in watching them fear her as she did enticing young men, and sometimes women, to satisfy her more carnal desires. She could hear footsteps returning, quicker and slightly heavier than the ones that had left the room.

The door opened and Margaret entered. She was dressed not in the robes that the others had been, but in a modern business suit. She looked like an 80's power-dressed Yuppie, and she had the mannerisms and steely-gaze to add weight to the image. "You sent for me, My Lady?"

"Do we have news from our spies?"

"Yes. The Watchers Council has made contact with Rupert Giles. They plan to talk to the boy this very morning."

"Excellent. Tell the spies that they should send an assassin in and kill both in one go. Meanwhile, you and two men will retrieve whatever papers and books remain within the Merrick mansion. Merrick was smart enough to have hidden the clue in somewhere safe and I want it, plus any other documents in there."

"As you wish, my lady". Margaret bowed as she turned and left, heaving s sigh of relief that her visit had ended with her still alive.

Watcher's Council Headquarters, London 

The Watchers Council's new building at Canary Wharf was a far more up-to-date affair than their previous home. The previous office had been a place steeped in tradition in a building hundreds of years old and immersed in the history of ages past. The new building was state of the art, with security and hospital facilities, with a helicopter to fly out to awaiting Council planes. The New Watchers Council was fighting a fully global war now, with Slayers at every major upheaval of demonic power, plus several more waiting and training back at the offices' huge training facilities.

Buffy had insisted on the changes. She knew that in order to meet the threat from all over the world, the Council had to expand it's thinking. To incorporate it's knowledge into the technological age. Giles had been cautious but understood and supported the changes, though others hadn't. Change had been slow in coming but when it happened it was impressive.

Rupert Giles was always in awe at how much things had changed since the Council re-established itself after the First's attack took out the original building. Although he was the first to admit to being dubious about technology he had seen the Council grow from being a "would be if only" society of well-meaning but stuffy bureaucrats with limited vision and scope to a modern agency tackling the world's problems from their many offices and using the most modern of technology to ensure that any place that saw a rise in supernatural activity was properly investigated and, if the source was a threat to mankind, eradicated.

There were still hotspots of trouble of course, and Slayers were there full time to aid the populace. But Giles had seen the rise in individual abuses of power, things that the Council didn't have the resources to deal with before but could be dealt with swiftly now. It had brought them into conflict with various Government agencies but at least some had, covertly, given the Council free reign when dealing with the supernatural menace. Thanks to Buffy being forward thinking, as well as Xander, Willow, Dawn and even Andrew, the Council was getting better at what it set out to do.

However, this was not without it's downside. The infirmary that they had was constantly filled with those people who were either Slayers or Watchers returning from missions battered and bruised, or civilians and military who were caught in the crossfire of something supernatural, where only the Council seemed willing, or able, to cure them. Also, it was no longer a case of watching one Slayer die, but hundreds. But, far more unsettling than even the loss of their soldiers, was the omnipresence of the forces of evil that had grown as if in direct competition to them. The legal firm of Wolfram & Hart, the firm that Angel and his friends had spent years battling with in Los Angeles, had recently opened up a flourishing business in London, gaining a glowing reputation for winning it's cases. Many a dubious sorcerer, necromancer or cultists from numerous sects and involved in all kinds of illegal and nefarious activities, had seen their cases dropped or dismissed thanks to the intervention of Wolfram & Hart. They had become the Council's own secret nemesis.

Willow stood in awe at the new facilities. She had been in Europe and South America and as such had never seen the new building, fully completed, before now. She had, like the rest of the Sunnydale alumni, believed that Watchers resided in some strange twilight zone where the 20th Century had successfully gone ahead without them. But now she was looking at the ground floor of a more modern, leaner machine that was ready to take its fight to the whole world.

She also noticed, as they walked through the main reception area to the doorway of the Watchers College and Slayer training area, that Dawn, dressed more conservatively than she was used to, was equally impressed by the pristine offices and hallways. She could also see that Dawn was becoming increasingly nervous as they approached the large double doors that were the main entrance to the college. As they approached Roger Wyndham-Price opened the door to greet them.

"Well, Miss Summers. Are you ready?" His tone was formal but pleasant, and he looked as if he was indeed genuinely pleased to be greeting her.

"I guess so. It isn't like, too difficult is it?"

"Not to worry. If you are as good as your sister and Mr Giles here say you are, then your participation here will be a mere formality, as will your graduation as Watcher."

Dawn hugged Willow and Giles, who both gave her smiles of 'Good Luck' as she went through the doors.

Roger, however, did not follow her and instead signalled to a young woman nearby. "Claire, please escort Miss Summers down to the test area so she may begin the written part of her exam. Good luck, Miss Summers."

Dawn left them there, nervous as they contemplated the tests ahead. Both Willow and Giles had gone through them and had done all they could to prepare her.

"I hope she'll be alright." Said Willow, her words wrapped in a tone of concern.

"She'll be fine. We've done all we can for her, now it's up to Dawn to show she can do it. We know she can, now she needs to know it." Giles' voice was calm and authoritative and Willow realised how much she missed him looking out for her as he used to in Sunnydale.

"If I may intercede, Rupert, there is the small matter of the boy to be dealt with." Roger had become serious now, the friendly tone was gone and in its place was his trademark sternness.

"What do you need me to do?" Asked Willow. Since being told of the emergency that morning Willow had wondered why she had been requested. Giles had told her about some magic being used at the mansion during the attack but she couldn't understand her needing to be here at this precise time.

"I'd like your opinion, Miss Rosenberg. We have only had a very vague description of the magic used in the Merrick home and I hoped that you could advise us."

"Well, if you want, but I thought Althanea or someone from the Coven would be much better than me at this."

"I'm afraid the Coven are….indisposed at the moment. But even so, your knowledge both as a practising witch and your skills as a Watcher makes you the perfect source for information and advice on this matter."

Willow was pleased. She had felt out of loop for some time now and was grateful for a chance to prove that she had something unique to offer the Council. She was dismayed that her holiday plans had gone awry but she had instead decided that, after this business was dealt with, she was going incommunicado for a few weeks for some well-earned rest.

She walked with Giles and Roger through several long and winding corridors. _What is it with these places that they have to have winding corridors? Is it a requirement_, she mused to herself.

They turned to walk down a corridor that she did know well. It was the Watchers private hospital and she was well aware how many lives had been saved in their many operating rooms and mystical halls. The smell was the standard smell of disinfectant but laced with the acrid smell of ozone from the many spells that were cast to facilitate fast healing, or to cure supernatural ills for which their was no known medical cure.

The three of them entered a private room, well illuminated by the bright daylight. There were metal bars across the windows outside but these were partially hidden from within by the lush curtains that hung by the window. The room was large and fitted the two larger than normal beds and still gave the patients the room to move within it with great ease. The room was cheerily decorated and one could be forgiven for believing that they had walked into a hotel room rather than a hospital one.

In the bed by the window was an old man, grumpily attempting to do his Times crossword whilst keeping one eye on the occupant in the bed opposite. He was shaking his head in frustration and Willow couldn't tell if it was because a clue had beaten him, or if the young man across from him had flicked one elastic band too many in his direction.

The young boy seemed to be fascinated by all around him and yet couldn't seem to focus his attention on any one thing for anything more than a few seconds. His expression positively beamed _I'm bored, get me out of _here. He spied Willow, and a huge smile appeared on his face. As Roger tried to attract the boy's attention, his stare remained fixed upon her, so much so that it irked Willow slightly. "Really the wrong person to get a crush on", she said under her breath, but not so silently that Giles didn't hear her. He chuckled slightly and Willow could see he was enjoying the irony of the situation.

Roger finally managed to meet the boy's gaze and he stopped smiling. "David, this is Rupert Giles. You said you wanted to speak to him. This is his associate, Miss Willow Rosenberg, she will be assisting Mister Giles in his enquiries."

David's face became sombre. Willow had become acutely aware that the stern expression seemed to be a Watcher's trait. Even their children seemed to pick it up. He looked up at Giles and extended his hand. "I am pleased to meet you, Mr Giles."

He then extended the same hand to Willow, "And you too, Miss Rosenberg."

He was trying to be grown up and not show the terrified child inside, But Willow saw it straight away. The boy, for all his well-educated words and manners, was still at his heart a frightened orphan. Willow's maternal clock seemed to "kick in", much as it had with Dawn when Buffy and Joyce had died. She wanted to hug David, to tell him the world would be okay again for him, but this was not the time, but it would be soon. She knew she would be needed for more than her abilities as a Witch and Watcher.

David turned back to face Giles once more. "I'm sorry for all the inconvenience I've caused the Council but my Dad's instructions were very specific. I was to find you and tell you that he wanted you to secure the journal. That there was a clue about it's whereabouts in the library."

The old man cleared his throat as he walked over beside David. He looked visibly ill, with pale skin and heavy eyes desperately wishing for sleep, but he was doing his best to stand tall beside the teenager. "What David says is true. I'm Whittaker, by the way", he said as he shook hands with Giles and Willow. "Mr Merrick was dying from a sword wound in the gut when I got to him. I only heard a few final words from Mr Merrick before he died. Mrs Merrick was already dead by this time."

David raised his hand, as if in school and trying to attract the attention of the teachers, when the large window that shone light into the room shattered inwards in a large explosion. One shard of glass flew with deadly accuracy into David's hand, forcing him to cry out in pain and crouch. The crouching, though instinctive, also saved his life. Part of the bars that protected the window flew behind the shard, but at a slightly higher elevation, which would have struck the boy, and possibly impaled him, in the head had his instinctive crouching not overtaken him.

The shards of glass and small missiles of steel bars flew around the room, searching randomly for targets in their blind quest to destroy all that lay in their path.

The glass tore at Willow's hands and legs as she crouched underneath the young patient's bed. She could hear Roger and Giles wincing with pain as they attempted to shield their guests from the shards. She looked up at the now shattered window-frame and at the hulking mass that obscured the Sun.

It was roughly 7 feet in height, but slim and humanoid. It's thinness however, made the powerful muscles on it's body all the more prevalent, muscles covered by what looked like a tough hide of leather. It was grey-green in colour, and it's eyes were a full and burning red, without pupils or apparently eyelids. Its mouth was slightly wider than a normal humans and Willow could see it open in a twisted smile to reveal that the teeth of this beast were long and pointed.

The creature leapt into the room with one graceful bound, fully clearing the space between the window and the bed where they had all congregated. Now Willow could see its hands, and the large talon-like claws that passed for fingers. There were five on each hand, including one where a human thumb would have been.

It picked Whittaker up off of the ground, knocking Giles out of the way as it did so. The backhanded swipe was so powerful that it lifted Giles clean off the ground by several feet, before he crashed into the hallway outside. Nurses and Doctors ran to Giles, whilst others seemed to leave with a more purposeful intention in mind.

Whittaker struggled against the beast's iron grip as it lifted him up to its head level. Its smile was cruel and thin as it squeezed tighter around the old man's throat, causing him to gasp and flounder in the air like a goldfish lifted out of its water.

The beast raised its right arm, keeping Whittaker tightly held in its left. And began to swing for his face. All at once the beast howled in pain as a blast of energy that came from somewhere below the young boy's bed impacted on its body with fiery intensity and cut through its arm, which dropped to the floor. The beast reeled in pain, dropping its victim from its chokehold and retreating slowly, in agony, to the window.

Willow Rosenberg rose from under the bed as if lifted by wings, and looked directly at the wounded demon before her. It seemed almost pitiful now, wounded and whimpering, and she wondered for a moment if it would merely die if she let it go. Her question was answered by the bellow of a demon whom she realised had not been retreating but merely regaining the initiative. She realised there was no one between the demon and the boy, and it leapt.

Willow shouted out words in some language that no human should have been fluent in. Her eyes and hair briefly turned pitch black and her hands crackled with electrical energy, a glowing black energy, if such a thing were possible. The energy now burst forward, exploding from Willow's fingertips and enveloping the demon's body. The energy laid siege to the beast as it dropped to the floor, reeling from pain that it could neither shield nor hide itself from. The energy entered it, turning the red, flaming eyes of the demons to a pale blue as it searched for weak spots. Electricity crackled from every orifice as it lay still, save for the twitching of its nervous system as the shocks continued unabated by their victim's demise.

Willow lowered herself on the floor, and looked back at the bed. Roger was shielding the boy, who cowered underneath him, sobbing. She wanted to scold the old man for doing nothing, but she felt that her anger was more to do with the spell than her own feelings. As the heat of the spell left her she saw the reason in his decision, her vision clearing as her eyes and hair returned to their native colour. The boy needed to be protected. Had she not been there, he would have died saving the boy.

She looked to the right side of the bed and saw that Whittaker had recovered enough of his breath to at least sit up, although his face was still a touch too red for her liking. As if on cue, the nurses entered, telling the Watchers to stand aside so they could attend to Whittaker and the boy.

Willow looked outside trying to see how such a beast could have arrived and not have been spotted. It was secluded, that was true, but the street beyond and the cameras at least should have given them a clue.

Several Watchers burst through the door, armed with swords and crossbows and stunned expressions. They took one look at the twitching corpse of the demon, then at Willow, and drew sensible conclusions rather than their weapons, lowering both them and their gaze.

Willow sighed, her reputation went before her in here and sometimes, that was not a good thing. "Its all right, ladies and gentlemen! Nothing to see here, unless of course you're interested in demon anatomy." She tried to make light of the situation, to diffuse it. Her attempt only partially succeeded.

She could see Giles walking through the door, looking visibly shaken. He had been lucky; having nothing more than a few bruises and a slight gash on his head and was arguing with a doctor over his right to leave.

"I am telling you that I am leaving, Doctor Cairns, whether you like it or not. If it makes you feel any better, I won't be operating heavy machinery any time soon."

Doctor Cairns was less than impressed, "Well, you know my feelings on this. I suppose if someone else were to drive you home then it would be okay but you must promise to get a good night's rest and see me tomorrow so I can check that you are 100".

Giles shook his head in defeat. "Very well. Willow knows where I live and as she was staying with me anyway she can drive me."

"Gonna charge you by the mile, Giles", said Willow, now fully relaxed and using the humour as a catharsis. She was glad the battle was over, and happier still that the 'dark mist' of hatred that had wrapped itself around her heart because of the magic she had used was gone too.

"Yes, well, I'm sure that the rent for staying at my house will more than cover it." Answered Giles in his usual, dry manner. "More important at the moment is ascertaining what the hell this thing is and why it was attacking us and how it got through our security?"

Roger by this time had straightened his tie and suit and was attempting to bring a little order back to proceedings. "Yes, good questions all. Thank you, Miss Rosenberg, for your quick thinking. You men take our 'guest' here down to the laboratory and start trying to find out what he is and if he had any way of naturally avoiding detection. Rupert, Do you have any further questions for young David here?"

"Yes I do. You were saying something about a library, David, and a clue, before we were so rudely interrupted. Please continue."

Willow could see that David was still visibly shaken from his ordeal but he seemed to steady himself when Giles asked his question.

"Yes, Father said he had left a clue as to the whereabouts of his private journal and files in the library at the house. He must have assumed that the thieves didn't find it or maybe they didn't see it as anything worth taking."

Giles sat beside the boy now, noticing that David was starting to shake, the shock of it all becoming all too real to him. "Is there anything else you can remember, anything at all?"

"He said that you were to find the entwined, the one without. That was all he said before he….." David's voice trailed off into a sob as the events of the past day finally caught up with him.

Willow instinctively went to him, placing her arms around him and allowing him to cry, which she knew he needed to do. More than anyone, she knew the pain, and the price, of not allowing yourself to grieve.

Whittaker cleared his throat. "Most of Mister Merrick's papers were in his safe. It may well have survived the blast. It was an old thing, set into the wall. I don't know the combination though. Only Mister Merrick did".

Giles removed his glasses, cleaning them in deep thought, as if the rubbing helped his cognitive abilities. "Thank you, David, you have been most helpful. I assure you that both Willow and myself will get to the bottom of all of this and we'll find out who is responsible for the death of your parents. I promise you."

David tried his best to choke and sniff back his tears as his head left Willow's shoulder. He smiled sheepishly at Willow, and nodded a quick "thank you" to her. He wiped his tear-stained eyes and looked at Giles. "Thank you, Mister Giles, I would like that very much."

Willow placed her hand gently on David's cheek, as Tara had done with her on many occasions when she was upset. "Don't worry, Giles here is the best. And I will do what I can. Do you have relatives to stay with or are you staying here?"

"Nana Harkness is coming to collect me later on. She's terribly upset and Uncle Gabe is flying in from Massachusetts, so I will be alright, I think."

Giles looked at David, shocked at the name being mentioned, "And when did you speak to your Uncle?" he inquired with a tense smile.

"Last night. He's not my real Uncle, of course, but he is a good family friend and I knew he would want to know."

Giles and Roger looked at each other, tension locking their stares together for several moments. "Well, I'm sure that will be nice for you." Said Giles, hesitantly.

Willow's head was reeling, the name was so unexpected, and it had taken her a few seconds for her mind to regain anything resembling coherent thought. "Are you talking about Althanea Harkness? Head of the Devon Coven?"

"Yes. You know Nana Harkness?" was David's excited reply.

"I was a student of hers, a few years back. Are you Michelle's son?"

"Yes, he is, Willow." Said Giles, attempting to break the line of questions. "One of the reasons why Althanea and the Coven are of no use in this instance. She is too close to it. Her emotions would counter any spell she decided to do to aid us, and we cannot afford a slip up here, especially after this attack."

"Do understand, Miss Rosenberg, that you are still our main source for information. But the Coven are necessarily indisposed at the moment and as such it is doubly important that your expertise be sought." Roger's tone was mildly apologetic, but he had the Council to think of and the over-riding concerns at hand, rather than the feelings of any one person. Willow respected that.

"I just wish you had been clear from the start." She said, feeling somewhat deflated.

"I had hoped that Althanea would tell you herself, as I still feel its the family's place to deliver such news. But from now on, all information will be given to you. I'm sure you will wish to talk to Miss Harkness when she arrives."

"We will." Said Giles, again eager to reclaim his authority. Although he never doubted Willow in the field, his automatic reaction was to take charge, if for no other reason than seniority. But he also knew how much the Coven meant to Willow, and how much damage she was capable if the hurt was allowed to fester in her mind. He trusted her, but he also knew her.

Willow was a little hurt by Giles' determination to cut into the conversation, but she knew why. No matter how much self-control she had, there would always be that small part of her that could trigger a full-scale dark wrath. The Coven had been good to her, helping her deal with the remorse and guilt, but also in helping her find a way of coping without her one anchor – Tara. But as David had mentioned Althanea's name she could feel the dark rising, and was equally sure that Giles had seen it rise too. _He's being cautious_, she thought,_ I just wish he didn't feel the need to._

Giles looked across at David, mind racing. "I think, under the circumstances, that David and Whittaker should come with us. There is no guarantee that he will be safe here, not if another of those demons, or something even stronger, decides to call."

Roger nodded in compliance. He had learned from Quentin Travers that Giles was a steely-souled man when it came to getting his way. "Very well. I will send down three Watchers tomorrow to help keep guard of the boy. What's your first move?"

"Sleep. Tomorrow I want to look at the Merrick home and see if I can find this clue that David's been talking about."

"I'll have the Watchers meet you at the Merrick home then. You best go now, before the doctors become even more enraged."

Willow held out her hand to David. "Don't worry, you'll be safe with us. Giles and I won't let anything happen to you." Her smile was sweet and her voice soft. She wanted David to trust her, as he was finding it hard to comprehend the savagery around him.

David smiled nervously, and nodded. He placed his hand in Willow's and left with her.


	4. Chapter Three

CHAPTER 3

The young girl's screams could be heard from down the hall. The sound was full of fear and disorientation, a sound to wake the dead from their slumber. Several of the occupants of the nearby beds stirred and showed some scant concern, as if this had been a regular occurrence and no longer startled the occupants of the room as it had once had.

But one figure, in the next bed, awoke and crossed the gap between the two beds and lay down next to the sobbing child, taking her in her arms and whispering soothing words of comfort to her. The child soon relaxed, her thoughts calmed by the soft voice and arms that held her. The tears were still flowing, but these were more tears of relief than tears of terror. She felt safe again. Warm, secure and loved.

Tara wiped away the child's tears, soothing her young charge. "Its okay, Heather. You're safe. No nightmares here anymore."

Heather relaxed. Since her arrival here, to this place, she had been plagued by nightmares. She never remembered them after she awoke, only that whatever images she had seen in her mind's eye had terrified her. But Tara had been there every time, and had protected her when the women in the room had asked, in the name of serenity, that she be moved to another room alone. Since then, Tara had been her unofficial guardian.

Tara smiled at her young charge. She had taken to the role of "mother" to Heather so easily, she had wondered if she had been a mother in a previous existence. Heather was no more than 10, she knew that, and as such was a young, headstrong girl who sometimes was mischievous. This often grated on the rest of the Order, and sometimes Tara as well, but she was still only a child and Tara had found a great reserve of patience and tolerance for Heather. She had also realised that whilst Heather rarely obeyed the words of the other members of the Order, other than Lady Nimue, she obeyed her without question. Whilst Tara sometimes felt the burden placed upon her was sometimes straining, she felt duty bound to protect Heather.

Tara could see the sun shimmering through the curtains and heard the sound of others rising from their beds to greet the dawn. "Time to get up, little one."

The new arrival felt disorientated as she heard the others walking, whispering down the hall. She had been asked to meet the head of the order in the garden before breakfast. She had so many questions, and she had been assured answers.

Since she had arrived the evening before last, she had found herself at peace in the halls. The women had been friendly and she felt as if she belonged here, somehow. The trouble she had was in not knowing where here was, or how she got here, or what she would be doing here. She tried to remember, tried to think back to before she arrived, but she could not. He mind was like a fog, unwilling to yield an inch in its quest to hide her memories from her.

She dressed, noticing once more the tattoo of the Dove on her upper left arm. She couldn't remember getting a tattoo, but there it was. It was beautiful. The white dress and cape that was hanging in the wardrobe was a perfect fit.

There was a knock on the door. A young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, entered. "Good. You are awake." She said with a smile and friendly tone. "Lady Nimue wishes to speak with you. I know you are confused, so does she. She will help you find some of the answers you seek."

The young woman nodded and followed her guide out into the garden, passing a multitude of corridors of soft wood and beautiful tapestries, each one a picture of serenity and tranquillity.

Out side the building, Lady Nimue sat by a small fish pond in the front garden. The morning sun was warm and soothing. Footsteps approached from behind her, and she turned and smiled. "Welcome, Michelle. Did you sleep well?"

Michelle looked at the woman in front of her. She was older than she and was beautiful. Her voice was soft and yet she sensed that it was also possessed of strength. She nodded. "I slept well enough but I am still very confused. I have so many questions".

"Of Course you have. I will do my best here to answer them. But first, you must eat."

"Please, I know you are trying to be nice and kind and I appreciate it but I won't be able to eat without some peace of mind. Where am I? Who are you? How did I get here? What am I doing here? Why can't I remember anything prior to arriving here?"

Nimue sighed softly, and smiled. "Very well. My name is Lady Nimue and I am head of the Order of Avalon. We are a peaceful order dedicated to ensuring that the powers of light are maintained. As for the how's and why's, I suggest we wait until after breakfast. I promise you, I will explain everything then. But you must eat."

Michelle nodded. "Very well. Yes, I could do with some breakfast. But I need answers." As she turned she saw on Lady Nimue's arm the same small tattoo of the white bird, the dove, that she had seen on her own arm that morning. "That bird, the tattoo, you have one too. Why?"

"The Dove is the symbol of our order, the symbol of peace."

"How come I have one? I don't remember ever getting a tattoo of any kind, let alone a Dove."

"The tattoo is upon you when you arrive here. It marks you as one of ours, which is why you come here. Breakfast, then I will show you what we do here."

Brighton, England 

Giles drove as if he were a man possessed. He had assumed that his days of being knocked out or over had gone with the closing of the hellmouth in Sunnydale and that his days of battling demons and monsters on the frontlines were over too. Instead he was nursing a few bruises and cursing under his breath that he had let his guard down over the years and had been swatted by the demon they had faced so easily. He felt a little better than he had the day before when the demon attacked, but his hands still stung.

He glanced over at the passenger seat at Willow. She had stopped the demon with barely a pause for breath. That had unnerved him more than the demon had. He had seen how Willow's power had grown over her time at Sunnydale. How it had grown out of control through grief, and how she had battled daily to get some semblance of balance back into her life. But having been on the receiving end of her rage, he saw in her attack on the demon the same violent streak that he had witnessed, and felt the same fear as he had that day when he crossed swords with her, and it scared him to see the potential for destruction still present in her.

He had tried to hide the fear when they returned to the small hotel that they had been using as an overnight stop. Giles had insisted on changing hotels and had told no-one in the Council of this. Giles was worried that an insider may have been responsible for the attack on the boy, and he was in no mood to give in to his guilt of questioning the loyalty of the Council.

He hadn't wanted to take David or Whittaker with him, but he didn't trust the security of the Watcher's Council not to mess up and he had no place to hide the two of them whilst he and Willow went to the Merrick home. So they were with him now, sitting in the back seat. David was asleep whilst Whittaker was attempting to solve yet another crossword. It was a stereotype, Giles knew, but he realised it was the only way Whittaker could concentrate on something other than the last few days.

Willow glanced at Giles. He looked pensive. So much so it scared her sometimes. She knew that, like her, Giles had a dark streak to him. A streak she had seen only occasionally but knew about by reputation.

She worried too about her own dark streak. She had felt it welling up within her when the demon attacked, begging to be set loose. That was something she wasn't prepared to do. After everything that had happened in Sunnydale, Willow was determined not to allow the dark to come to the fore.

So now they were driving down to Brighton, to check out Mr Merrick's house and see what kind of clues they could find. Willow was apprehensive, but was calmed by the thought that she would be meeting Althanea after they had finished. There was much to ask, much to say, and much to plan with her former teacher.

Willow and Giles together saw the Merrick house, such as it was. There were no upper storeys to the house, and the bottom storey looked as if it had stood there for centuries, such was the state of dilapidation. The light rain that had started fell on the stones and wood of the house with an audible hiss, the heat still present even days later.

But there was something else here, and Willow and Giles both sensed it. Though their battle senses had atrophied over time, the attack yesterday had heightened them once more, and they could feel the presence of someone, possibly more than one, other than themselves.

Giles entered the building first, heading to the back of the house as David had instructed. He was loath to leave them there, but he was more fearful of taking them into this place, where so many recent, painful memories had been created amongst the hissing debris. He had considered keeping Willow back, but he also knew that his own skills, however skilful he had become in sword and magic, were not enough should they face opposition, which his senses told him they would. So Willow walked with him, slightly behind, muttering in an archaic tongue.

Willow had sensed the danger too and had thrown a barrier around the car in which David and Whittaker sat. _That should keep them safe for the time being, _she thought to herself. She was hoping that the sense was just apprehension, and not anything more.

They entered into the ruins of what had been the Merrick study and library. Here the mess of rubble and timber took on a more organised visage, as if the piles of debris here had been stacked, rather than merely fallen, in their current position.

"Well, we've had company for sure", said Giles in voice barely above a whisper, viewing the whole room again with renewed intensity, "but I fear they may not have gone. You check over that way," He said, motioning to the remains of the far wall, "I'll check around here".

As if in answer to Giles' beliefs about intruders, a small popping sound echoed, followed by the sting of a bullet hitting Giles in the arm. He did his best to muffle his scream of pain as he dropped to the floor, carried by the momentum of the bullet.

"Giles!" Willow cried out as another pop sounded and a bullet cut its way through her sweater. Willow dropped, more from the momentum than any damage. She had often mused over her predilection for over-sized sweaters, but she thanked the Goddess for her choice now as the bullet tore through the fabric but left her flesh more or less intact, grazing it rather than penetrating into her.

Footsteps entered the ramshackle remains of the study from somewhere outside. Willow looked up, feigning weakness, and saw two large men armed with automatic pistols and large swords at their sides, flanking a woman dressed in flowing, dark robes and sporting a great deal of gothic make-up.

"Knew you Watchers would come, sooner or later. We only had to wait. Now we know that there is something here worth finding." Her thin lips twisted into a satisfied grin that looked more full of wickedness than happiness, amplified by the black lipstick she wore. She crossed to the wall where Giles had been heading towards and motioned to one of her guards who threw back a piece of the plaster and brickwork as if it were paper.

The safe was there, still in good condition if the door was any indicator. The woman's eyes blacked over as she spoke a few words of Latin and turned and twisted her hands one and another. She stopped her incantation and the safe unlocked and opened slightly. "Perfect, now let's see what there is to see". She opened the safe all the way and her eyes opened wide with what looked like genuine surprise. "A book! A bloody book of Poe stories!" Frantically, she skimmed the pages, looking for a clue, looking for anything that might indicate what she should be looking for. "Nothing! We must already have the clue amongst our maps and charts that we stole. Seems the Watchers have come for nothing, except of course to die!"

Giles chose that moment to make his move. He had taken the advantage of their disbelief over the book's lack of information to manoeuvre himself nearer the door, and Willow. He opened up his jacket to reveal that the guards were not the only one carrying guns. A small pump-action shotgun was holstered on his shoulder and he smoothly drew it out, with such little noise it was if he were pulling it from thin air.

The guards turned to where they had left Giles and were stunned by his body not being where they expected it. The guard on the left turned to his left, and saw Giles stand, shotgun in hand. He had no time to move as the thunderous shot rang out and caught him in the mid-rift, nearly splitting him in two.

The other guard backed off slightly as he lifted his gun to fire. He was quick, unnaturally so, but Giles, though wounded, was quicker. A second shot rang out from the shotgun, catching the guard in the upper torso, removing his head and neck from his body and covering the area around him, and the gothic woman that he had been protecting, in blood.

The woman was startled and ran for the exit of the open wall outside. Latin and feverish hand movements punctuating her every step. She knew that she had to even the odds, had to get away before the next shot rang out.

Giles span and aimed at her and pulled the trigger. Nothing. He cocked the gun and tried again. Still nothing. And then he felt the pulling force on the gun. It strained from his grip as if it were alive and demanding freedom. Giles clung on for dear life, knowing he was all but defenceless without it. And then he felt a counter-force, pushing the gun back to him. Now the gun in his hand felt more alive than ever. Suddenly it was if the gun was being pulled from its master and was now fighting to stay. Giles looked to see if the counter-force was coming from a familiar source. It was. It was Willow.

_The red-haired woman is strong_, ran the mind of the gothic woman who now started to run, dropping the book she considered useless and concentrating completely now on escape. But she could feel her run slowing as if her body was being reduced to slow motion. She turned, eyes blackening, voice becoming louder as arcane phrases in forgotten tongues spewed from her mouth as if they were the last ramblings of the condemned.

Willow could feel the counter-spell, feel the shockwave approaching, and tried to escape its wrath. She did not succeed. The blast threw her across the rubble and into what remained of the wall that separated the study from the remnants of the hallway. Willow dropped to the floor, consciousness fleeing from her treacherously.

Giles now had control of his gun again, and reacted. His instinct was to tend to Willow, but he knew that would get them both killed and he had to be ruthless. His darker nature had been nicknamed Ripper, a name he once used when he was a young man, a man for whom the darker sides of life had been endlessly fascinating. But now that nature came to the fore, and it trained itself upon the intruder who had attacked them. He fired without emotion, without regard for her gender. He fired knowing that if he didn't she would surely kill both Willow and himself. He fired knowing it was all that stood between life and death.

She felt the 12-guage round from the shotgun smash through her lower torso, ripping her spleen and kidneys and bowels into shreds, as it sought for an exit. That exit came via her spine, which left her body as if instinct had caused it to sense the danger and to attempt to avoid it at all costs. Her body slumped and fell, lifeless within moments.

Giles closed the distance, taking no chances. He aimed another round at her head, preparing to fire at the slightest sign that she could have survived. But when he saw what was left, the twisted mass of bone and flesh, blood and sinew, he knew she was dead and lowered the shotgun.

He checked around and picked up the book. She had been right, it was a book of Poe stories, seemingly borrowed from a library. He flicked to the contents page, and saw that one story, "The Purloined Letter", was faintly underlined. Giles placed the book in his pocket, making a mental note to sit down and study it more closely later on. He then turned his attention to Willow, who was slowly coming round.

Willow got to her feet. She was shaky but was determined to look her attacker in the eye. She crossed, shakily, to where Giles was standing and looked at the body. She looked into the dead woman's eyes, down her face and neck until something on her arm caught her eye. She pulled back the small section of cape that obscured her vision and then saw what it was that had intrigued her. It was a small tattoo, a raven diving to strike, its eyes were red as if delirious with the thought of the kill it sighted. The image was unsettling and seemed to fit the wearer perfectly.

Giles saw the stern look on her face. "What is it?"

"Raven tattoo. Kinda goes with the gothic look, don't you think?"

Giles looked at the guards, as if on automatic pilot. "And the guards have the same tattoo. Could be some sort of society, raven worshippers, although I confess I've never actually heard of such a thing."

"It's a start at least. What on earth do they want with David? Or the Merricks for that matter? Tell you, Giles, when I said I wanted a holiday I wasn't meaning a Busman's holiday."

"I am sorry, Willow. But you are needed now, more than ever I fear. If this woman is any indication of the power that these society members may wield you may be our best defence."

"That's me, defence woman." Willow did her best to show enthusiasm but she was tired, dizzy from the attack, and angry.

"Well, I suggest we leave before any more of these people arrive. I think we have everything that we came for. I only hope that this book is the clue and that I can figure out Merrick's cryptic brain." Giles was weary. He hadn't paid much attention to his arm as the battle had raged but now that it was over and the adrenalin had begun to subside he could feel the bullet, and it hurt like Hell.

Willow looked at his wound, and closed her eyes. Her mind concentrated on nothing but the bullet. She saw it in her mind's eye and she pulled it, effortlessly, from Giles' wound and using a small spell, healed up his arm and numbed the pain. She let the bullet drop to the floor.

"Haven't used that spell in a while", she said with a weak smile, "not since Buffy got shot". What smile was there faded as her memories returned. A single tear fell from her eye and she quickly attempted to regain her composure.

"It's alright. I know it still hurts." Giles had seen the tear and knew what had gone through her head. He embraced his young charge. He had, for all the Scoobies, been the closest they had to a stable father figure and he took that responsibility seriously enough. Even now his paternal instinct called into play and he held his surrogate daughter, knowing that she was still in pain, and probably always would be. Some wounds never heal completely.

Avalon 

Michelle walked beside Nimue in the garden. "So what is the purpose of this place?"

Nimue smiled. "We are the Gateway. Centuries ago the Fey imbued the world with magic and humans with the gift of imagination. Every dream, every inspiration, every aspiration is because of the Fey legacy on this world. When the Powers That Be and the demons lost their footing on this world, we aided mankind, as best we could, until mankind's dominance surpassed even us. There are those of us who still believe in aiding mankind, by dreams or direct action, and we have our strongholds, such as here in Avalon. These strongholds are the light which allows the Ley lines of pure magic to run."

"Ley lines?" asked Michelle, confused but fascinated by Nimue's words.

"The Ley lines are the veins of the world, within which are the forces of nature and elements that allow magic to exist. But not all lines are pure. Some were corrupted by demons, some by man's desire for power. Some were corrupted by the Court of Nightmares, Fey who have decided to use their power to hurt and destroy mankind. Some of the members of the Court are demonic in appearance, some would easily pass for human. We, the Court of Dreams, counter their machinations when we can. But it is a hard fight."

"I see. So how did I arrive here? Am I Fey?"

"Yes and No, is the best answer I can give. The Fey in the past often married mortals. So whilst you are human, there must be some Fey blood in your lineage. But not all humans such as you come here. Most go to wherever their souls deem fit but those who have used magic, and are in tune with nature, such as followers of the Pagan faith, find their way here when they die."

"So are all here humans with Fey blood in them?"

"No, some here were born to this realm and came here, rather like a pilgrimage. We are seen as a holy order as such, the Order of the Dove, to be precise in our case. Others are like you, humans of fey heritage whose souls came here, because they belonged here."

"So why can't I remember my former life?"

"When you died, your spirit was released from its mortal body, and came here, on instinct. But as so often happens, the spirit leaves behind few of its mortal memories, except perhaps your name, and comes to us reborn, one might say. Also, the emotions that one feels when one dies can be strong and, if negative, can disrupt the energy that Avalon gives to the world. If you remember nothing but your name, there is a very good chance your end was violent."

"Will I ever get my memories back?"

"No. But you will soon settle here and you will find this place to be a peaceful one. There is someone I think you should meet. She came here a few years ago and like you, had no memory of anything but her name. I believe she could lay your worries to rest as she seems to be quite good at re-assuring the worried when they first arrive."

Nimue turned to one of the women who stood nearby. "Take Michelle here to the cemetery where Tara and Heather are. I am sure she will be able to put your fears to rest."

Nimue watched as Michelle was led away, and then turned to Diane. "Matters are progressing quicker than I had anticipated. Keep an eye on her. When the time is right, we will make our move."

"Could she be the one?"

"I am sure of it. So sad, that so much pain is needed in order for this good thing to happen. She will know when the time is right. Until then, keep an eye on her. She must be kept safe. All depends on her now."

END OF CHAPTER


	5. Chapter Four

**CHAPTER 4**

_**Wyngarde Castle, Welsh-English border**_

Morgana could not control the anger in her voice. "What do you mean, they are dead?"

"We went to the Merrick house as you requested to ascertain what had become of Margaret and her two guards and we found them lying in what was the study. They had been shot with a large caliber weapon, most likely a shotgun. From the atmosphere around them, Margaret had attempted to use magic in her defense and had failed."

"Margaret was one of my most adept pupils. No one should have been able to combat her magically, except for myself of course".

The man who was giving the report cowered slightly. He was well aware of Morgana's temper and more aware of her magical prowess, and he did not relish the news he had brought. "Our contact within the Watchers' Council has provided us with a possible source for this".

He handed Morgan a small photograph. On it was an image of Willow Rosenberg, smiling succinctly. "Her name is Willow Rosenberg. She is a Watcher but more importantly, one of the most adept users of magic the Council has. She once resided in the town of Sunnydale, in America. Her power was so great that once, in a dark magic-fuelled rage, she nearly destroyed the town and the world with her. Our contact says that she is an old friend and pupil of Rupert Giles".

Morgan smiled at the photograph. "Finally, a worthy opponent. Her presence here cannot be mere coincidence. She must be…. Send out a call to our contacts. I want her closely monitored. Tell them to use the crystal shard. I must know her mind. She could yet be placed on our side of the chessboard. We may yet turn white to black". Morgan's eyes burned with exuberance.

"We have done some research on her already, my lady. We believe there is one who could help us. One who is tainted with dark power." He produced another photograph for Morgana to see.

"Make the contact. This one could well be the one we need to send to bring this Willow down and will be a perfect replacement for Margaret."

"Very well, My Lady. Anything else that is required?"

"Yes. Send in two of the servants, I need to build up my strength".

"As you wish, My Lady."

_**London, England**_

The Watchers Council was in session when Giles and Willow returned from their encounter at Merrick's mansion house. There arrival was greeted with serious faces and few smiles, and the mood of the gathered throng was one of palpable intensity.

Willow hadn't said much on the journey back. The shock of the situation hadn't fully registered with her and moreover, she did not want to further alarm David. Although she had been witness to countless acts of violence from one species to another, and indeed had caused some of that violence herself, it still made her feel uncomfortable. The single mindedness of Giles as he had shot the attackers, seemingly without hesitation or a glimmer of emotion, had unsettled her too. It had been all too easy to forget that Giles was as willing, and capable, of violent acts as anyone. She had glanced through the rear view mirror at David and Whittaker and in a single expression tried to alleviate their mounting fear. They had heard the shots of course, and the screams of pain and rage that had come with them. Willow felt sad that David had had to listen to the sounds of death again, so soon after losing his parents so callously. Willow reminded herself that this was a war, one that it seemed the Merricks' were both aware of and had prepared for.

Giles too, kept conversation down to a bear minimum. He had called the Council and demanded a meeting with the most senior members immediately. Roger had been less than happy with such an order, but Giles had convinced him of the urgency of the situation. He knew his request would be treated with cynicism, as he knew some members of the Council still resented his re-instatement. But he had no time to consider other people's feelings about him or anyone else, he had the mission to consider.

Since Buffy's spell to awaken each Potential as a Slayer, he had seen his role change from a Watcher to a teacher. He, like his Slayer, had been afforded the luxury of semi-retirement. Since that day, his duties had become less demanding, and he was enjoying the relative quiet of his new position. But the events of the last few days had re-awoken long unused muscles, both physical and intellectual, and they ached from lack of use. Giles knew he would sleep tonight, regardless of the situation, as his body and mind would seek rest to recuperate.

Roger Wyndham-Price stood up from his chair and motioned for all in attendance to sit on the soft chairs around the large conference table that furnished the room. "Everyone, please. As you know, Rupert Giles has called this meeting to bring us up to date on what has been happening and to discuss how we intend to respond. Mr Giles, you have the floor."

"Thank you. As we all know, The Merrick household was attacked two days ago and the mansion reduced to rubble. Merrick and his wife, along with a great deal of their staff, were murdered. The attackers were, according to the only survivors, two men and a woman. The men were highly skilled swordsmen and the woman seemed to be highly adept at magic. The survivors, Merrick's son David and their butler Whittaker, were housed here in our hospital for their safety as well as for medical treatment. Yesterday morning, an unknown demon attacked us in the hospital room with the sole purpose, in my opinion, of eliminating the child."

A young man, with dark hair tied in a small pirate's pigtail and sporting a grey suit, placed his hand in the air and coughed, causing all to look at him in unison. "Er, we have been able to identify the demon, Mister Giles. It is a Salnash Beast. They were rare in their day and had thought to be extinct. No records of any existing have been recorded since a purge of the beasts happened in 296 B.C. in jungles of what is now modern Zimbabwe."

"You're sure of this?" asked Giles.

"Absolutely. There are only a few descriptions of the beast from the archives, but those descriptions are very accurate."

Roger smiled at the young man. "Excellent work, Alan. Your Demon Research Team have done themselves proud".

Giles stared at the Council members around the desk. "And, could this creature have evaded our detection systems naturally, or would it have required help?"

"We have studied its physiology and it's defences exhaustively. We can say, categorically, that it would have been unable to do so without help from a third party". The young woman who spoke tried her best to look competent, but she knew that what her report indicated, and it saddened her.

Giles sighed, knowing what her answer meant. "In that case, we must accept the real possibility that we have a traitor within our ranks, perhaps even within this very room. That traitor could also be the reason that assailants were waiting for us when we returned to the Merrick house this morning to ascertain the scale of the damage. We were attacked, again by two men and a woman. The two men were possibly very good with a sword. Fortunately for Willow, and myself, they weren't particularly good with firearms. The woman however, was very skilled with magic and I was lucky that Willow is as strong as she is, or you would have been hunting for our murderers too."

Willow looked at the glances of the Council members as Giles spoke her name and the hushed conversations that followed his mention of their escape from death. She was well aware of the fear in which the Council members viewed her, and it upset her again as the looks seemed more frightened than respectful.

Diane Morgan stood up, her black hair flowing down as if it were alive. "The question we must all ask is whether or not this attack is due to Mister Merrick being a Watcher, Mrs Merrick being a witch, or due to the long running beliefs that Mr Merrick and his lineage held regarding the legend of Avalon and the power that is supposedly held there?"

Giles looked at the young woman, she had a commanding presence and an authoritarian voice that could only mean one thing in his eyes. "And how long have you been a part of the library team, Miss…?"

"Morgan, Diane Morgan and, in answer to your question, only for the last two months. Enough time for me to overhear enough phone calls to know he and his wife believed in Avalon."

Alan Carter, head of Demon Research, snorted his disdain. "Avalon does not exist. The Merricks, may they rest in peace, were foolish to believe in such a concept and even more foolish to be willing to die for it. As far as I am concerned, Merrick was one of ours and that's why he was attacked."

"I disagree." Giles voice was filled with calm but firm authority, and it silenced his audience. "From all I have worked out at the moment, the Avalon legacy is the reason that Merrick was killed. I still have more investigating to do, but it seems to have been his last wish that we, the Council of Watchers, take on the responsibility of protecting Avalon. However, it seems that all their private papers from the safe in their study have been stolen, along with a few choice volumes from the library. That last part is speculation, but I consider it a legitimate line of thought to take."

"Well, if it is Avalon and its protection that is the cause of this havoc, then I would suggest that Althanea Harkness should be placed at the centre of things. No offence to Miss Rosenberg but she is not the most stable when it comes to harnessing magic." Diane Morgan's voice was matter of fact and direct, which made her words seem all the more cold.

"I assure you all", said Roger, "that Miss Harkness will be kept up to speed regarding this matter but the main source of our magical expertise in this crisis will rest on Miss Rosenberg's more than capable shoulders. Now, Mister Giles will continue to be the front man on this investigation, aided by Miss Rosenberg and several of our key personnel, including our newest Watcher, who graduated yesterday after scoring some of the highest marks ever recorded for the written and practical parts of the exam. You will be introduced to her after this meeting. As for the protection of the boy and the manservant, I suggest a Slayer would be most effective so I had one called for you. I don't think she will give you any trouble." He touched a small intercom button in front of him. "Rachel, please send in the Slayer that has been assigned to Mister Giles."

The door opened, and Giles smiled as Buffy Summers entered the room. He was happy to see his Slayer and close friend and knew that he had the one person whom he trusted above all others if the conflict became physical. "Hello Buffy. I'm sorry you have been called in on this, and at such short notice, but I am glad to see you."

"I'm just annoyed you didn't contact me straight away when it all went pear-shaped." Buffy was relaxed and happy. Her semi-retirement had allowed her the benefit of being able to value her powers without feeling the loneliness of being the Slayer. It had allowed her to be closer to her friends, closer to Giles and closer to her sister Dawn.

Roger was grinning from ear to ear. "I knew you would be uncomfortable with anyone else looking after David and Whittaker so it seemed the perfect solution to send for Buffy. I do apologise for the fact that this assignment is really nothing more than that of glorified bodyguard, Miss Summers, but the situation really does warrant a Slayer."

"That's okay. Was feeling the need for a workout anyway. And DefCon 1 seems to be my exercise level."

Willow rose up from her chair and walked over to her best friend, huge grin on her face. "Hey Buffy. Strange place for a High School reunion, don't you think?"

Buffy hugged her friend. "Well, considering where our school probably is right now, I reckon any place is less strange for a reunion."

"Buffy, I think it best if we go along and meet your charges and I can bring you up to speed with what has been happening here." Giles was back to business mode, taking charge of his Slayer and the Scoobies again.

"What about me?" Asked Willow.

"Althanea has a small office & meeting area on our fourth floor, Miss Rosenberg", replied Roger, "she had come to see me but I am sure she will be delighted to see you".

The news that Willow's teacher had arrived filled her with both happiness and sadness in equal measure. She loved Althanea and was forever grateful for the help she had given her in gaining control of her magic, but she also knew that this meeting was about the death of Althanea's daughter and that made her worry about whether the kind woman she knew would have the same inner radiance.

The elevator that carried her down from the fifteenth to the fourth floor seemed to take an eternity, as if fate itself had decided to delay the meeting. Eventually she arrived at the office door. It was ajar, not enough to be seen but enough to hear the voices within the room.

One voice was that of Althanea Harkness. It was mature and soft, yet there was a sternness about her tone, something Willow had never heard in her voice before. The other voice was male, and had a distinctly soft Scottish accent.

"I wasn't expecting things to happen this way, Gabriel. Michelle prepared me but I wasn't ready, not for this." Althanea's voice was tinged with sadness but also, ever so noticeably, with fear.

"I knew it was going to happen soon. I wasn't ready for them not to be here to help the transition." Answered the man that Althanea had called Gabriel.

"Is the house ready?"

"It's ready. Fully refurbished and awaiting occupancy. The rest is nearly taken care of. Dash has a few phone calls to make and all will be set. Are you sure it's her? What if Michelle got the signs wrong?"

"She was never wrong about these things. She and Joseph always believed in the Entwined and after everything I've seen Michelle predict come true, I am sure about this."

"I hope so. A lot of people are going to die over this. Will you tell her?"

Willow knocked on the door. She felt guilty to do so, but she felt even guiltier about eavesdropping on a woman she regarded with great affection and respect. "Sorry to disturb you, Althanea, but they said you were here and I wanted to say hello."

Althanea greeted Willow with a warm, almost motherly, embrace. "Of course you are not disturbing me, Willow. This is Gabriel Caine, and old friend of Joseph's and Michelle's."

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Rosenberg. I've heard so much about you and the alumni of Sunnydale. Nice to finally meet a living legend."

"Pleased to meet you too, Mister Caine."

"Please. Call me Gabriel, or Gabe. Most people do. I was never much for titles and hierarchy."

"I hear you used to be a Watcher here. How come you left?" Willow saw the man flinch slightly, as if the question had opened up some gaping wound.

"Long story, Miss Rosenberg. One I will not proceed to bore you with. Suffice as to say, we had a parting of the ways." His tone was serious and sombre, as if the memory had triggered long held grudges.

Willow liked him. She had made mistakes about a person's character before but she saw in Caine's eyes a sadness that she herself knew only too well, and she wondered if that had anything to do with his parting from the Council. She made a mental note to ask Giles when she had the opportunity.

Her gaze drifted back to Althanea. Willow could see a tiredness in her eyes and her expression, whilst trying to be warm and welcoming, betrayed all too easily her inner feelings of loss and sorrow. Willow knew that feeling all too well and embraced her mentor.

"So, Willow, what can you tell me about the assailants that attacked the house?" Althanea's voice was now one of determined resolution.

"Can't say much for the first attack other than there was a lot of magical residue in the atmosphere around the house. It was palpable, even after two days. It was also dark. Darker than any I've felt since…" Willow's voice faltered.

"I understand, Willow. But what do you mean by "first attack?"

"There was another one on us this morning. Myself and Giles that is. The woman that was with them was really strong. I couldn't hold out against her. She sent a shock blast at me that I would have died from if I hadn't rolled with the blow. But Giles killed her when she turned her attention off of him and onto me. He killed her two guards as well. I forgot how bloody-minded he could be when threatened."

"Could you describe the woman to me?"

"Yes. She was about 5 foot 8, brown hair, slim. Pale skin and brown eyes. Sound familiar?"

"Yes, she does. Sounds like Margaret Mackintosh. Former member of the Merrick staff and a servant of the Raven Lady."

Willow's brow furrowed as she heard the ludicrous sounding title. "Raven Lady? Sounds to me like you have been watching too many films about Ye Olde England, Althanea."

Althanea smiled. "Yes, I guess when said aloud like that it does come across as pompous. She calls herself Morgan le Fey, or Morgana. We are unsure if she is the infamous witch of Arthurian legend, a descendant or someone merely using the name to instil awe and fear in her servants. All we know is that she is a highly accomplished sorceress, has some sort of home hidden by powerful wards and is determined to find and access the power of Avalon for her own nefarious purposes."

"And this Margaret was a member of her order was she?" Asked Willow.

"She was", answered Caine, "I happened to be staying with Joseph and Michelle and, being a rather sceptical and suspicious soul, I found out Margaret's little secret and got her banished from the house. Always wondered if she would be a threat one day. He should have let me….".

"That's quite enough of that story, Gabriel!" Her voice was abrupt and slightly louder than was normal, or as normal as Willow had ever known Althanea's voice to rise. "The fact remains that it could very well be Margaret we are dealing with here, something I will confirm when the Council bring the body here for the autopsy. Meanwhile, my coven is attempting to find a way of protecting this building from a repeat of yesterday morning. We have asked the seers to ascertain who the traitor is amongst you but the death of Michelle has upset us all and even the seers cannot focus properly. I am afraid that a great deal of this battle will be magical in nature and unfortunately, the burden will lie with you, Willow".

"I was afraid it would be. I am scared that using magic, so close to such dark power, might have side effects that no one will be ready for".

"I have faith in you, Willow".

A knock on the door halted the conversation. Althanea turned to the door and with a small flick of her hand, opened it. "Come in, one and all".

Giles came in, followed by Roger Wyndham-Price, A smiling and radiant Dawn, David Merrick, who ran immediately into the arms of his waiting Grandmother, Whittaker, and lastly Buffy, whose smile had now turned to a sorrowed frown.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" Willow asked, concerned for her friend.

"When they asked me to do this, they didn't tell me the name of the victim. I knew Joseph Merrick's father. He was my Watcher in L.A. and helped begin my training. I saw him die. I was young, scared. I had only just begun to understand my powers and I had only really started to bond with him. I always felt that I had failed him. But I won't fail his Grandson. In some small way, I can make amends".

Willow hugged Buffy with all her strength. "You have nothing to make amends for. He would be proud of the woman you have become".

"I still feel I have a debt to pay, Will. This isn't just a lowly bodyguarding post either. Seems you guys are dealing with some pretty mean looking monsters. I got shown the demon you gave invasive shock therapy to. You guys are going to need a Slayer full time on this".

"Actually, Miss Summers, as I was just explaining to Willow, it is her skills that will prove the most vital here. The magics controlled by Morgana are not to be under-estimated. Whilst you will be able to deal with any physical threat she sends, her main weapons and power would kill you before you got near her. No, Miss Rosenberg is your best defence. But, I would trust no one more with the protection of my grandson". Althanea smiled and nodded as she finished speaking, as if it were a gesture of acknowledgement of Buffy's abilities.

"Well, you know us Summers girls. Slayers, Watchers, can't get rid of us."

Willow turned to look at Dawn, smile still adorning her. "You passed! Wonderful! I knew you could do it, Dawnie!"

Giles smiled at his three 'daughters'. "Well, we have a lot to do and not much time in which to do it. As my home is near to the coven and near to where this Morgana woman supposedly has her fortress, I suggest we make the long journey and then rest up and crack on fully tomorrow morning."


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter 5

**Avalon**

Michelle followed the young lady, whose name she had discovered was Karen, to the graveyard. In her mind's eye she hadn't known what to expect. The immediate vision had been some terrible place of cobwebs and shadows and yet on this day, sunny and clear and warm in the mid morning, she could not imagine a place as awful as her first impression could exist here. And she was not wrong. It was a place that, should she die here, she would wish not only her body to rest, but her spirit too. She did not know if there was a Heaven, but the Elysium Fields oft talked of in Greek myth would have paled in comparison to the hills and meadows she saw in the distance and the well tended cemetery, which seemed more like a beautiful garden as each grave was marked not only with a headstone, but a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Karen gestured to the top of the path that led to the right of the entranceway where they stood. About halfway along the path, Michelle saw a young woman and small child placing flowers at a grave and tidying the area of leaves. The breeze was stronger here and she could see a few graves remaining where leaves still lay. She looked at the headstones, and saw that whilst some had names upon them, others were blank. Not a name, nor date, nor gender placed. Nothing save a single, solitary, anonymous headstone to mark the place of burial and the flowers that had been placed there. Michelle found this odd and made a mental point to ask about this with the woman up ahead.

Karen smiled at Michelle. "That's Tara up there, with her young charge Heather. I will leave you to get acquainted". Karen turned and left Michelle to walk the small distance to where the two figures were.

As Michelle grew nearer she began to see the features of the two up ahead more clearly. The young woman was in her mid twenties, Michelle guessed. She was of medium height, slender with dark blonde hair. She was quite beautiful, almost in a classical sense. She was dressed in the long dress and cape of the order and she could see, briefly, the tattoo of the dove upon her upper left arm. The child with her was barely ten, with dark hair and wearing the order's dress and cape and seemed to be full of energy. She danced around, kicking piles of leaves around with wild abandon before picking them up and placing them in a large bag, which looked like it was made of canvas.

"Heather, please! We have only a few more to do and I could do with your full attention. You will have plenty of time to play later."

Michelle noticed that the young woman's voice, whilst firm and commanding, was also one that was neither stressed nor angry. It was a calm voice of gentle authority.

The young woman smiled at Michelle as she approached and stood up to greet her. "You must be our new arrival. My name is Tara. This young leaf bully is Heather."

Michelle smiled, thankful for the warm smile and greeting. "I'm Michelle, pleased to meet you. Lady Nimue suggested that I talk to you, that you might allay my fears about this place. Although I doubt much will."

"Well, I will do my best. Right now I'm just clearing the graves of these leaves and making them nice. We have a rota, we all take our turn."

Michelle looked upon the grave that Tara was tending, and saw that, like some of the others, there was no name upon the headstone. "Why do some of the graves have no name on them?"

"Sometimes, natural disasters in the mortal world mean that no body is found. If we can make it happen, we can help rescuers find it. Often though, the body is beyond human help. So we take them here and bury them so that their souls can find some semblance of peace."

"Lady Nimue said that travelling to the mortal world was impossible, so how do you get to the bodies?"

"We don't go, for us it is impossible. Some races of the Fey, from both sides, can and do travel around the mortal world. Some below ground, some amongst mortals themselves."

"Both sides?"

"Yes. There are those Fey that, when we lost our footing on the mortal world, swore to do their best to protect the humans. Those who swore the Oath became known as the Court of Dreams. But there are those Fey who saw the chance to ruin mankind and formed alliances with demons and forces of evil. They became the enemy, the Court of Nightmares. Not exactly the classiest of titles, either of them, I grant you, but it describes them adequately enough."

Tara stood up and started to walk towards the next headstone that required clearing up. Heather followed her, canvas bag in her hand rustling as she began to pick up the leaves from around the grave. She knelt reverentially in front of the grave and removed the flowers from the grave. She muttered a few words and a fresh bouquet of flowers appeared in her hand. She smiled and placed the flowers in the vase in front of the headstone, before pulling away the few weeds and other debris that had surrounded the grave.

"You do that a lot?" asked Michelle, unable to hide the fascination in her voice.

"Its part of the ritual. We tend the dead and respect them. We keep them tended and they will remain at peace."

Heather completed her task of picking up leaves and handed the bag to Tara. "Can I go and play now? I've tidied everything up!" The young girl's smile beamed in pleading.

Tara smirked, her lips upturning on one side in a slanted smile. "Very well! I give in! Have fun!"

Michelle smiled at Tara. "You would think you were sisters, the way she looks up to you. Is she like that with the rest of the Order?"

"No, she only seems to listen to me. When she first came here she had horrendous nightmares and me, sleeping in the next bed, comforted her and now I have pretty much become a parent."

"She seems like a handful."

"She's a child. She can be trying at times but I don't mind too much. She really is a good girl."

"Was she born here?"

"No, came here as we did. I guess that's why I have a soft spot for her. She was so young when she left the mortal world. She never really had a childhood."

As Tara rose from the grave, a bell sounded in the distance. "C'mon, time for dinner. Time does fly when you have someone to talk too."

Westbury, England 

It was 8 o' clock in the evening when Giles' car pulled up at his farmhouse. He had been driving for hours in the heavy traffic after the meeting had broken up. The drive had been fairly quiet, apart from the few murmurings of complaints by David that he needed the bathroom or dinner, which Giles had dutifully obliged by stopping at a service station.

But he and the second car following him drove steadily other than that. In his car was himself, Willow, Buffy, David and Whittaker. The second car had Dawn, Alan Carter, Diane Morgan and Claire Danvers, the young woman who had performed the autopsy on the Salnash demon. He was armed with bookworms for the most part, which he preferred. Giles knew that this was going to be more of a book learning event rather than the violence-strewn mayhem as had so often happened in Sunnydale. He hoped that by combining their knowledge, the Watchers might find a way of heading off any potential trouble before the need for violence, although he would not allow himself to rule it out.

He looked at Willow and saw the expression of calm fear in her features. He knew what she was thinking. She was scared of the idea of coming so close to dark magic and being asked to counter it. She had grown in power and control under the Coven's tutelage over the years but she still held that fear that she may one day re-cross that line that had resulted in her nearly taking down the world. Giles worried about it too but he had faith in her, even if she had none for herself.

The cars drew up to Giles' house as the twilight of the dusk descended overhead. Giles scanned the area around his lavish farmhouse that had been home for many years. There was nothing save the odd bird on the wing and the chirping of their families in the branches. He smiled, it was good to be home.

Willow felt weary. She had been playing the day over again in her head and it had left her emotionally exhausted. A lot had happened and she knew it was the tip of the iceberg. She was also worried about Althanea's belief that she would be more needed in the coming struggle than Buffy or any of the Coven.

She looked over at Buffy. She had seen in her the opposite of her own inner turmoil. Buffy had left Sunnydale free from the past. Willow was, in some ways, still consumed by it.

The group converged in the living room and were offered tea. Giles hated stereotypical labels but he did love tea, so it was one he was happy enough to live with. General chat about the day's events was followed by the necessary decision over sleeping arrangements. Giles had dreaded this. He remembered all too well when the Potentials were in Buffy's home. He was glad that the numbers here were quite small in comparison and that everyone would at least have a bed to themselves, or maybe share a double bed.

Giles set up the rooms. He would share his room with Alan Carter. Buffy would be placed in the room with David and Whittaker to keep an eye on them should an attack happen through the night. Willow and Dawn would be placed in a third room and the fourth room would be made up for Diane and Claire.

Buffy and Willow wandered into the kitchen. The house was a place they both knew well, but for different reasons. For Buffy it was a place where she celebrated her semi-retirement, a place that brought home happy memories. But for Willow it was a place that forever reminded her of her rehabilitation, and that always made her sad.

"You look stressed, Will. What's up?" Buffy sounded honestly concerned. Since her role in the front lines of the war against the demons had been reduced, she had spent more time getting to know her friends as friends again, not just as allies.

"Just thinking about Althanea and what she said about me being the big gun here. It's a lot of pressure. Plus I always get the blues a little when I first arrive here."

"I'm sure you can handle the pressure. Althanea seems to think you can and so does Giles. And so do I. And the blues will pass, I promise you."

"I don't know, Buffy. It's been five years and I still feel it."

"I still miss my Mom. Every now and then I feel it. Not every day or every minute but something will happen and I find myself wishing Mom was here to see it. She would have been so proud of Dawn today."

"She would be. I can see you are."

Buffy walked from the counter top near the sink towards the fridge. "OOH! Apple juice! Want some, Will?"

"Yes please. I just realised how hungry I am."

"I think Giles is going to order some Chinese food tonight, save us all cooking."

As if by the magic of being mentioned, Giles wandered into the kitchen. His demeanour was relaxed, given all that happened that day as he opened his fridge and took a glass from the counter to pour himself some milk.

"Nice to see you still believe in healthy bones and teeth, Giles", laughed Buffy. She enjoyed making fun of her Watcher. For Buffy, it was at least a semblance of the normal life she had craved, the ability to poke fun at her elders. It had served her well to release the tension of a situation when she needed to relax, and that time was now.

"Very funny", scowled Giles. A wry smile soon grew on his lips though. He did love the old banter from his young students, even if he was the target of most of their jokes. It meant they were alive and that was always something to cherish.

"Living room seems oddly quiet, Giles", said Buffy as she peered from the kitchen into the hallway that led both to the living room and the stairway up to the bedrooms.

"Yes, the others have decided to turn in for the night so we can all put our heads together with a fresh perspective in the morning."

"Even Dawn?"

"No, she wanted to wait and talk to you before she retired for the evening."

"Okay." Buffy smiled wearily. She wondered when all was said and done what the more difficult and trying task was: being a Slayer, albeit part-time, or being an older sister. She decided at that moment it was being the elder sibling. She walked through from the kitchen down the hallway, heading for the living room and her sister.

Giles watched her leave, a small smile and shake of the head his acknowledgement that he didn't fully understand the sister-sister dynamic, but he was grateful for it. He then turned his gaze towards Willow. She looked worn out, pale and in need of sleep. But there was something deeper in her eyes, and he had an idea of what it was.

"You're worried about what Althanea said, about you being our best weapon in this."

"This morning, at the mansion, I felt it. I felt that woman's power and I could feel it trying to consume me. I didn't like that, Giles, and it was just one. How am I going to deal with all the power Althanea says Morgana has under her control?"

"We'll find a way of neutralising her somehow, Willow. But you are a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. We all have faith in you."

"How can you, when I have no faith in me?"

"Because I have seen you at your best and your worst and I know you can handle this, Willow."

"I just don't want to end up being your worst problem by getting too close to the darker side of my nature again."

"You won't. I promise you that. Now I think you could do with some rest. This will all look better in the morning."

Willow let out a defeated yawn. "I think you are right. Good night, Giles." Willow made her way to her bedroom, pausing briefly to say good night to Buffy and Dawn before heading upstairs to the warmth and comfort of the bedroom she knew all too well. When she first came here she was given this room, and she had spent many hours in her grief and melancholy, memorising every inch of the room.

She dressed into her pyjamas quickly and settled down to sleep. The images that plagued her mind slowly dissolved and she fell asleep.

_The white dove sat alone in its golden cage. It could feel the tension in the air and it moved uneasily along its perch, one way then the other, not resting. The shadow of the larger bird nearby grew larger as it approached. The dove could see the forms of other birds, similarly shaped, circling overhead. _

_The cage was in the middle of a clearing, a beautiful meadow and yet the trees, which were so far away, seemed ominously close to the bird as the first of the shadows landed near the cage. The raven peered in, its eyes looking upon the dove with a hatred that was palpable. The dove wanted to escape, to fly away from the circling ravens above but it could not escape._

With speed and intent of purpose the raven pecked at the dove's body. The white feathers of the bird covered in small specks of red blood. The bird pecked again and again. Blood began to seep from the wounds as other ravens swooped down to join their brethren in pecking and skewering the bird on their beaks and talon-like claws. The dove tried its best to defend itself but the ravens were merciless. As if in final desperation the dove let loose a fearful, shrieking cry that seemed as much a declaration of its pain as it was a warning or cry for help. But the shrieking did not stop the ravens, they pecked and they bit and they tore at the white bird until its coat was a matted mass of blood-drenched feathers. The cry continued until the dove stopped moving, stopped screaming, stopped living.

The ravens circled around the cage, gilded now as much with blood and white feathers as with gold, and eyed their next target. They began to circle high above, blood and entrails still hanging from their beaks and claws, all of them buzzing around the onlooker, standing a mere five feet from the cage. The ravens dove down, screeching in attack as the figure raised her hands to defend herself. Claws and beaks were scraping and pecking, finding their target, ripping through her. She could feel the pain, tasting the blood as it formed in her mouth. She screamed in agony as she fell to the ground, ravens surrounding her like a swarm of bees moving in for the kill. She dared to open her eyes, only to see the raven's beak peck into her socket as she roared in defenceless misery.

Dawn awoke, screaming. Her arms were waving madly over her body as if defending herself from the attacks of the birds. Her hands reflexively felt for her eyes and she was relieved to find they were both still there. She had expected to still hear the shrieking, the cawing of the ravens, but all she heard was a single voice, calling her name, begging her to wake. It was Willow.

"Dawn, wake up! Dawn!" Willow could see the terrified look on Dawn's face and wondered what kind of nightmare could cause such a reaction.

Dawn began to find her bearings and at last recognised Willow, her room, and the fact that she was not outside being attacked by ravens. She shuddered as a wave of nausea came over her and she ran to the en-suite bathroom. She washed her face and rinsed out her mouth after the nausea had left her body. She could still feel the shaking though, there was little to be done about that.

The screams had awoken Buffy and she came into the room, sword in hand, looking for trouble. All she found was a worried best friend and a shaken but otherwise unharmed younger sister.

"Okay, someone wanna tell me who disturbed my beauty sleep?" Buffy asked, partly in serious tone and partly in jest to lighten the tension.

"My fault", said Dawn. "I had a nightmare, a pretty vivid one. Real surround sound and technicolour widescreen. But I'm okay now."

"Are you sure?" asked Willow, concern growing in her voice. She had had many a nightmare here in this room and she wondered, momentarily, if something in the room had triggered the dreams. Some part of her that had been left here from all the grieving and mourning she had done over the years.

"Honestly, I am okay. I'm a little shaken up but I am okay. It was pretty potent."

Buffy relaxed her sword arm and nodded. She retreated back to her bedroom, giving herself a mental note to ask Dawn about the dream in the morning, when she was better prepared.

**Wyngarde Castle, Welsh-English border**

Morgana glanced over to her apprentice. She was younger than many of the previous apprentices that had come by in the years. But she was by far the most talented. But her talent was not what made her so unique. It was her desire for power. Morgana knew one day she could even become a problem, but only if she was left without her guidance.

"Did the shard work?" Morgana's attention was now focused on the crystal ball in front of her pupil. She was aware that many younger acolytes turned their noses up at such old fashioned devices as crystal balls, but her pupil embraced them completely.

"It worked but not as we had hoped. It was placed under the wrong bed. Buffy's younger sister received the dream instead of Willow."

"Then we will have to tell our spy to move the shard into the other bed, won't we?"

"I wanted her to suffer! She deserves to suffer!"

"And she will, Amy, all good things in good time. If you are as powerful as you profess to be, you will get your chance soon enough."

Amy Madison rose from her seat and smiled. "I will contact our spy and make the arrangements for you, Milady."

"Good, and ensure that the spy understand I will not accept another failure. Giving Willow that shard, and that dream, is the key to controlling her and once we have that control, Avalon is dead. There will be no entwined to save them."

"Are you sure that Willow is one of the Entwined?"

"I am positive. What I can't ascertain is who the other half is. But I am certain that controlling Willow will ensure the Entwined cannot come to be. Plus she'll make one hell of an ally when we bring Avalon to ruin."

"Then maybe we should bring our attack forward to tomorrow night. Hit them right after Willow falls asleep."

Morgana smiled, her protégé was learning quickly. "I agree. Set it up. Ensure our spy knows and make sure Philippe is ready."

"Yes, Milady."


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter 6

**Westbury, England**

The various members of the Giles' household had breakfast in almost stony silence apart from the obvious greetings to one and all. Giles then took them from the kitchen/dining area to the study.

Willow was impressed. He had expanded what had been quite a small and humble study room and library into a large room which seemed to take up most of the house on the west wing. The reference library seemed large indeed, possibly larger than the old library at Sunnydale High School where she had spent so many angst-ridden hours.

"I see you've had the decorators in, Giles" said Buffy.

"Well, one has contacts and Xander does work cheap." His smile stretched out wearily but warmly.

"I thought I recognized the craftsmanship from my dining table days", remarked Buffy. "Have you seen much of him lately?"

"No. He did this work for me about a year ago. Since then we have spoken intermittently, when he hasn't been working for Riley and Sam and their commando squad."

"I still can't imagine Xander in military garb, especially not with that eye patch. Who does he think he is, Nick Fury?" Dawn smiled at her own joke, as no one else in the room grasped the reference.

"Since the military re-awoke his soldier knowledge from his subconscious he seems to have settled into the unit very effectively. And I think he feels he is actually contributing to the fight directly, rather than just being the moral support."

"With all due respect but we have far more going on here than carpentry and old friends." Alan Carter's voice was authoritarian, and reminded Willow of Wesley, Buffy's former Watcher. She didn't like Wesley at first but had learned to accept him as one of the team, especially after he had died trying to save the world from the apocalypse of the Black Thorn. Somehow she felt that Alan would take longer to like.

Giles snapped his mind into focus. "Yes. We shall begin by looking for all references to Avalon here and then we will cross reference those with the volumes at the Council's main library."

Alan shook his head. "I still say that Avalon does not exist. This talk of ravens and doves and of a day of reckoning is the kind of talk that gives the Council less credibility as a force for good and makes us sound like raving madmen."

Dawn began to tremble, her voice shaky and hesitant with more than a note of fear upon her breath. "Ravens and doves?"

"What is it, Dawn?" Asked Giles.

"The nightmare I had last night. It was of a dove, in a golden cage, being pecked to death by ravens. It was awful. They never let up until it was torn to pieces and then they came after me. When I woke up, for a few seconds I could still feel them around me, still hear them cawing and shrieking. The dove shrieked in pain." Tears began to flow down Dawn's cheeks as the memories of the dream came back to her.

Buffy embraced her sister, turning her head to Giles as she did so. "This making sense to you, Giles. Cos its sure beating me."

"What it indicates is that our enemies may very well know we are here. But we need to do this research so, Buffy, fortify this place best you can and we will work in shifts to protect ourselves should we come under attack. Meanwhile the rest of us will concentrate our research on the question of Avalon as this is certainly a factor, regardless of what you may say on the subject, Mr Carter."

Carter nodded. "Very well. We shall begin in Celtic Folklore and then find the historical context for them. Maybe we can get some idea of where this Avalon is meant to be."

"I am far more interested in finding the whereabouts of our Lady Morgana. Merrick seemed determined to keep the location of Avalon safe, even willing to die for it. As such if we can defeat Morgana without discovering Avalon's location then I feel that we will have kept Merrick's wish alive." Answered Giles, exuding cool authority as only he could when necessity dictated.

"But what will happen if we are left with no choice but to find Avalon? Morgana may well know its location already." Claire Danvers was doing her best to sound knowledgeable but couldn't quite disguise her naivety.

"Then we must find her before then." Giles' voice was the last word.

Avalon 

Tara sat alone in the gazebo. She had had a rough night's sleep and was not at her best. She had come here to find her balance, as she had so many times down the years, but today she could not find it and she wondered if it she had ever really had it here at all.

She heard the familiar sound and cheerful footsteps of Heather. But there was another sound she heard, one that was alien to the usual serenity of the garden. It was the sound of cawing.

She was used to the sound of birds here. But the birds usually whistled and sang as they flew and built their nests. At night she could hear the odd hoot and shriek of owls as they took to the skies or perched and made their presence felt. The voices were pleasant, soothing and serene in turn.

But this sound was different. It was the sound of impending fear. Tara began to feel panic settle in her heart and stomach as the number of bird sounds increased and overlapped each other. She was unsure how many birds there were but she guessed that there could easily be a dozen, perhaps two. She could feel the cold shadow spread from the willow tree above the gazebo and she felt the shadow move towards the only person in the open, towards Heather.

The birds swooped upon the young girl. At first they tore at her clothes but in an instance fund flesh and began to attack with frenzied abandon. Heather tried to escape their clutches but could not. She ran, heading for the gazebo and the safety it might provide but the birds swooped in front of her, flying towards her face and neck, keeping her low and stopping her from making further progress.

Tara reacted quickly, instinctively. Arcane phrases accompanied majestic gestures of her hands as she kept her eyes constantly on Heather. She stretched her hands out towards her young charge, her voice becoming deeper, more forceful with each repetition of her ritual.

The birds began to arc away from Heather as a glow appeared around her, growing in intensity and size. The ravens tried to peck their way through, tried to claw but it was useless. The barrier stayed firm, protecting the young girl from further harm.

From the opposite end of the garden came the sound of further chanting, a mixture of Gaelic and Latin filled the air, threatening to silence the cawing of the ravens. But now that cawing was replaced with something else, the sound of the birds shrieking as each of the birds exploded as though they were nothing more than small fireworks that had reached their end. The incessant cawing of the ravens became high-pitched, rasping shrieks as they flew for cover.

Tara quickly crossed the distance that separated her from Heather. She embraced the terrified girl and as she did so, checked to see if she was hurt. Tara was relieved to find no marks on Heather, other than a small cut on her knee from where she fell. She could feel the terrified grip around her and knew Heather was hugging her as if letting go would somehow increase the pain and fear she felt. Gently kissing Heather's forehead in comfort, Tara picked her up, holding her tight as she crossed the remainder of the path to where Nimue and Karen were standing.

"What happened?" Tara was agitated, for the first time since the attack she began to let the emotion swell.

"We are unsure. Such dark harbingers of death are not welcome in this realm. They should not have been able to come here."

"You have an idea who sent them, don't you?" Tara's voice was accusatory.

"Yes, the choice of ravens as the attackers seems to narrow the field to one likely suspect. We will discuss this later, after you have settled Heather down."

Tara left, still holding Heather in her arms and soothing her with a gentle lullaby.

Karen turned to look at Nimue, "This may not go as planned. This attack happened sooner than expected. Are you positive that she is the one?"

"There is no other reason I can see for the birds attacking as they did."

"What if she won't go?"

"She will. We must be cruel to be kind, Karen. Destiny must be allowed to take its course."

"She may end up despising us for it."

"Perhaps, but the stakes are too high for us to worry about how she may think about us. Send a message to the Court at Sommerway, let them know what has happened and I request an audience."

"At once, My Lady."

Westbury, England 

Giles' home was a flurry of intellectual activity. As Buffy, Whittaker and Willow fortified the home through a mixture of shutters and magical devices, Giles and his colleagues worked to discover what they could about the mysterious Avalon, a mystery that had cost the lives of dear colleagues.

Buffy, Whittaker and Willow were outside, checking that they had the views they needed and setting the best place for early detection spells that would create an unmistakable high pitch alarm should intruders attempt to come to the house. It was exhausting work but they were determined to see it through.

Whittaker coughed and wheezed as he lifted and carried various items to be used as barricades should they be attacked. He was an old man and his health had already had begun to fail him prior to the smoke damage his lungs took from the Merrick house fire. Now he could feel the strain beginning to tell, but he was too proud to admit to two young women that he was incapable of coping.

Buffy had been here, of course, many times but had never had to view it from the point of view of a fort before. She had always seen it as a sanctuary away from the madness of her life as a Slayer, not to be attacked here by forces she could not quite comprehend.

That bothered her more than anything. In the old days it was simple: Slayer needed, demon identified, weaknesses assessed and actions taken. The end result was: demon dead, apocalypse or other disaster averted. But this seemed to be different. This was a force determined to be patient and plot its moves. It knew its targets rather than randomly seeking out victims. The guiding mind here was surgical, clinical, and intelligent.

Buffy looked at Willow, her friend now for ten years. A friend who had possibly lost as much as anyone she knew. A friend who now could be their best shot of getting this new evil on the ropes and keeping it there. And that scared Buffy.

She loved her friend but remembered her descent into magic and grief-fuelled megalomania all too clearly. Of all the people that Buffy feared, Willow at her crazed worst was by far the most frightening. She did worry that being so close to such dark and potent magic, that she may have to face her friend again. And this time there could be no excuse of bereavement to stay her hand. Too many lives depended on it.

Willow closed her mind to all around her as she set another mystical alarm up at the far side of the driveway. She was aware of the anxiety that the Council had about the coming battle, a battle she was not sure that she was ready for, or wanted. But it was coming, like it or not, and she would was determined not to let down her friends.

Giles studied the large volumes of ancient texts that were spread out in front of him. Endless books about the legend of Avalon and various theories as to its purpose, from the resting place of King Arthur to the notion of it being a gateway to the realms of the Fey. But none gave any clue about its location, other than stating with some certainty that its doorway was "somewhere in England". Giles polished his glasses as he set his mind to thinking. Every reference to Avalon seemed to cross-reference to a note or section about the Fey, and vice versa. Giles allowed himself a wry smile as he knew he was onto something. This was progress.

"I think that we may have hit on something here. These references to the Fey seem to come up consistently. I knew Merrick was well versed in faerie lore, and now I think I know why."

"You think the Fey are the ones who reside in Avalon?" asked Diane Morgan.

"Yes, although there are one or two books from the Council's main library I wish to look at, just to double-check a few items."

"Are you going now? Do you wish one of us to go with you?"

"Yes and no, in that order. I want as many hands on here as possible should we fall under attack. I will travel alone."

"That is an extremely unwise course of action, Mister Giles. One of us should go with you." Carter seemed to be trying to show concern, but only arrogance rang from his voice.

"No, you are needed here so that we can keep up with this information here. I will be back before the night is out, I assure you."

Giles left the room, packing up his notes en route, and entered the small hall closet to grab his coat from the hanger. He heard footsteps behind him, coming from the library. From their weight and distance, he took a wild guess as to their owner.

"Are you going to ask me not to go as well, Dawn?"

Dawn was stunned as Giles had not turned around before speaking, but she composed herself. "I am worried. Giles after last night I have really bad feeling about all of this and I don't like the idea of you going off on your own."

"Speed demands it, Dawn. Besides, Buffy will require all of you here. Believe me, I will be fine." He flashed Dawn a reassuring smile, and left the house.

Buffy noticed her Watcher leave and quickly cut the distance between them. "Where are you going?"

"London. There are volumes in the main library archives that could give us a clue on what and who we are dealing with here and a way to stop it. You are in charge here, Buffy. Don't let your guard down at all."

"You be careful. We don't know what is gonna come out of the woodwork next."

"Don't worry. If I am right, we may have some real weaponry to deal with this crisis. Knowledge."

Giles got into his car. He was nervous about leaving his group but knew of his necessity and he was more than confident that Buffy and Willow could handle what anything that dared to cross the threshold.

Buffy watched the car leave and heaved a pensive sigh. She didn't like him leaving Fortress Giles, but she knew his resolve face and determined visage when she saw it, and she had seen it on him just then. No point in arguing with him in those circumstances.

Buffy signaled to Whittaker and Willow to return to the house. They entered and saw the Watchers busily reading and referencing and checking each other's work as they went along. It was like some strange production line, turning the line into a rollercoaster.

"So what do we have here? Anything at all giving us any indication of who or what we are facing?"

Diane Morgan raised her gaze to meet Buffy's. "We are pretty sure that if the legend is true, then we are dealing with the Fey. The Raven is the symbol of Morgan Le Fey and her legend goes back many centuries, to the time of Arthur in fact."

"Morgan, eh? Bet you are just hating the name similarity right now."

"Yes, it does rather make one look more suspicious than one is, I grant you. But if the chronicles of various monks and knights are to be believed, she is a great power and has one or two rather distasteful habits."

"Such as?"

"Well, she is known to absorb the life force of men and women whilst in the throes of passion with them, keeping her eternally youthful. Countess Bathory for the pornographic crowd, if you like."

"So she sucks their life out of them whilst she is having sex with them? Men **and** women?"

"Yes, it seems she was quite willing to satisfy her lustful urges with whomever came along, male or female."

Buffy noted that the last two words came out in an almost disgusted tone, something she noticed that Willow had also picked up on. "You have a problem with her sleeping with women?"

Diane looked at the scornful look of both Buffy and Willow, and lowered her head. "No, just what she does to them. Killing them, I mean."

"Glad to hear it. Anything else?"

"Yes, she seems to be quite the master sorceress, capable of powerful transformations and has been known to communicate to others through dreams and omens."

"Like the one I had last night?" Dawn, having settled down to read another volume, safely away from the explanations that she was already aware, suddenly began to pay full attention to the exchange.

"Yes. I have an explanation, a theory that is. She could be attempting to contact through the weakest link. Hoping to divert your attention towards Dawn whilst she makes her move."

Willow nodded. "Makes sense but I don't understand why I didn't sense anything. I mean, that kind of power, I would have picked up on it, even asleep. But I didn't get any residual aura at all."

Diane nodded. "Considering her power, it is easy to speculate she may have sensed your presence, Miss Rosenberg, and took steps to hide her presence from you. If my theory is correct, it makes defeating her that much harder, as essence will be nigh on impossible to detect."

Buffy folded her arms, taking it all in, before bringing all the room to attention. "All right! We have three problems: We need to find a way to detect this woman. We need to hold this place should we get attacked and we need to get all we can in one useful form so that Giles can check it against whatever evidence he uncovers from the Council library. Now, who wants what?"

"I say sleep, " answered Willow, wearily. "All those detector spells have wiped me out. If we are going to need a solid defense, I need my beauty sleep to recharge."

"Okay, you rest up. I'll send someone to wake you up in a couple of hours. Sorry I can't give you more time than that Will, but we will need all Watchers on deck to deal with this paperwork."

"That's okay. I should be better prepared to actually help you then."

Buffy returned her attention back to the rest of the room. "Today people! Weaknesses, powers, phobias, anything and everything on this Morgana woman so I can introduce her to a real Slayer-sized whuppin'."

The Watchers, including Dawn, now returned to their array of books with a renewed vigour and a sense of purpose. A conflict was coming and they had to be ready.

Willow sprawled out onto the bed. She as too tired to change, too tired even to lift the covers over her. She wanted to rest. The restless sleep from dealing with Dawn's nightmare and the heavy use of magic to protect the farmstead had left her exhausted. Now she could feel sleep take her, consume her and fill her up with a warmth that made her smile.

She found herself in a meadow. It was a beautiful spot, surrounded by three sides by tall, majestic trees and the fourth by the small incline that she stood upon, and yet down below her, in the middle of this green meadow, she saw something all the more beautiful. She saw a cage, a gilded one. Willow couldn't understand how a cage this beautiful could be in the middle of an otherwise empty field.

_As by speed of thought she found herself standing next to it. She saw within the cage its single occupant, a white dove with piercing blue eyes. The eyes were immediately familiar to her and she wept at the recognition hit her. _

"_Tara, is that you?"_

_But the dove made no reply. Instead it moved away from the cage as a cold breeze and darkening shadows loomed overhead. The change in temperature was palpable and immediate. The gloom added an eerie hue to the trees, their majesty now a terrifying image of towering fear._

_Willow looked up to see the sky now dotted with large, black birds. Their cawing seemed to echo down through the meadow. She breathed in, feeling the chill in her lungs. As she breathed out the breath that emerged was not white as she expected, but black. She raised her head again as she heard the flapping of wings, and realized that the ravens above her were not flying above now, but diving down._

_She tried to run, tried to move her body, but she couldn't. She as capable of a few movements of her hands, but her legs stood firm, as if the ground itself held them fast. She thought of a spell, one that would shield her from the feathered onslaught, but as she tried to utter the words the memory of the phrases needed left her. She felt more vulnerable then than perhaps at any time in her life. She stared at the cage, at the dove with the blue eyes, and saw that it was trying to fly out, trying to reach her, but the cage, and the diving of the ravens, made it impossible to._

_The first raven hit her. She felt the pain but it didn't stop at her body as it should. As if it were as incorporeal as the air it flitted through her. She could feel it though, every agonizing moment of it. It seemed to last forever, though she could tell in her own inner clock that it was the briefest parts of a moment. It flew out of her back, the force almost knocking her down. It span round, hitting her in the back and moving through her body once more. But as it exited, it changed course, heading for the dove. Willow wanted to stop it but her hands flailed through it, hitting nothing. All she could do was watch as the raven struck the dove, impaling it on her beak. But she recognized the cry of pain that emanated from the dove's mouth. It wasn't the cry of a bird, but a human cry. It was Tara's cry._

_The ravens continued to descend, one after the other like bombers on a suicide mission. Each hitting and penetrating Willow front and back, each finishing its maneuver by attacking the dove in the cage. The cage refused to give, refused to yield or bend or break to the ferocity of the attack and yet with ease the ravens found a way to use their beaks and claws to full effect, each one pecking, ripping, slashing and tearing at the white bird. Each one punctuated by Tara's screams of pain. _

_Willow couldn't stop them, she tried to grasp each one in turn but was left only with a handful of air. But now she could hear the last few sounds of the dove as its last few gasps gave out. But somewhere within those gasps, Willow heard Tara's voice. It was weak, barely above a whisper. "Help me, Willow! Please help me!"_

_The ravens, as if spurred on by that request, turned their attention to Willow once more. This time she could feel their beaks and claws as they mercilessly ripped into her flesh. But now they could feel her hands around them, swatting them away. She could touch them. They flew high into the sky, like a display team ready for the final breathtaking stunt. Now they formed within the twelve of them an arrowhead formation. They turned towards Willow once more, and dove._

_But Willow had heard her lover, had heard her words, and she was determined to be strong, to defend her, whatever the cost. As she looked towards the cage one last time, she saw the lifeless dove, still with it's blue eyes trained upon her, and a wave of anger such as she hadn't known since her days in Sunnydale consumed her. She stood, her eyes and hair turning black, her features beginning to pale as blackened veins slowly formed upon her face. She smiled as the ravens approached. She silently mouthed a few words of Latin, and let loose a fireball of such intensity that it blew her back as she saw the ravens, burning and screaming, fall to the ground to their deaths. She could feel the flame, hear the roar of the fire and the screams of the ravens, before darkness descended on her._

Willow awoke, screaming. She awoke with a scream in her voice, tears cascading down her cheeks, an emptiness in her heart, and black now tinting her hair, her eyes and her soul.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

_**Avalon**_

The small banquet hall in the centre of the main mansion was rarely used. The Order always used the larger dining area for meals. This room had always been designed for guests of honour and official functions, which involved only the head of the Order and her immediate entourage. For five years it had sat vacant, awaiting a time when it would be needed to be used again.

That day was today and the hall had been decorated with candles and tapestries in an attempt to seem warm and inviting. Nimue knew that the Lord who controlled the lands upon which Avalon stood was a man of action and few words, but it was words that were needed, and needed now.

His name was Gawain. The rumour was that he had inherited the name from Arthur's loyal knight, that he was a direct descendant of that line that met the Green Knight and lived. It was said that Gawain's meeting with the Green Knight tainted his blood, making his heirs Fey, rather than fully human. That was the legend that grew around the man, this Lord of Sommerway.

He had come to Avalon with only a few chosen advisers, rather than the usual procession that marked his arrival or passing through the towns and villages in the land. He meant business and as he entered the banquet hall and greeted Lady Nimue, his features and demeanour made it plain to all that this was no social visit, this was business first, last and only.

"You are certain that it is her?" His voice was deep and seemed to reverberate around the room.

"I am certain. The attack happened far sooner than I had anticipated. Events in the Mortal world may have forced this haste upon Morgana".

"But she is still unaware of the location of the gateway?"

"Yes. The ravens were her scouts, her eyes and ears and spies but we dispatched them. None escaped to report back to her. But they must have sensed an opening in the Veil. We must hope that no raven returned to Morgan after the discovery was made. We must however act now to secure the future of the Fey. We cannot keep Morgana and the Court of Nightmares out indefinitely. The first battle will be here but the New World is where the battle lines are drawn."

"The power the Dark Court has slowly amassed over the centuries. They will be impossible to defeat unless we have the aid of the Entwined. Can it be done?"

"I am convinced she is one half, the nature of the attack made it clear to me. We must hope that the other half is nearby, so that destiny may take its course. Avalon has served its purpose to the Fey. We know what must come."

"Why send the other two as well? They may be needed."

"No. They will be more useful on the other side of the Veil, to help join the Entwined. They may be safer there than here, one of them will be anyway."

"When will you tell them?"

"As soon as I have your permission to give them safe conduct out of the Veil. I just hope they are strong enough, mentally and emotionally, to survive the return."

"The boatman will be ready for your evacuees as soon as you get them ready. I am sorry this is happening now but the larger picture must be dealt with. The Entwined are the mortal world's only chance of holding back the tide of the Dark Court and we must ensure their joining."

"They will be ready to leave by nightfall."

Nimue knew what was to come. She had hoped that this day could have been averted, but now she recognised the truth within, that this was always the way events were destined to transpire. Now she had to trust that their one weapon could be kept safe, and that their one hope of safety could be brought together.

Watcher's HeadQuarters, London 

Giles looked anything like a Watcher in a library. He was in a t-shirt and jeans and boots rather than his usual suit and tie. He had seen some of the Watchers shake their heads, albeit minutely, in disdain at not showing proper etiquette in their presence. Giles didn't care at all for their opinions. Research and answers were more important right now than fashion faux pas.

He knew his research would take some time and it would have been better if he had asked for help, but he couldn't take the chance. He was now convinced that a spy was amongst his own camp and that each and every second counted. He felt guilty, leaving Buffy with the spy in her midst unaware of their presence but he trusted her senses would pick up something wrong from within if the spy made their move.

So for now Giles concentrated on the problem at hand. Checking and cross-referencing the data he had gleaned from his volumes at home with those he found at the library. It was long and tedious but necessary work and Giles was a focused precision instrument of knowledge extraction.

He furiously scurried down note after note after note. Every once in a while he would score something out as he found it disproved or out-dated in another volume. Other times he smiled a satisfied smile as he underlined sections of his notes, indicating their relevance to the problem at hand.

A young woman brought him in a fresh pot of tea, which he was thankful for. As she left he sat down, rubbing his eyes and deciding to let his mind rest for five minutes. He slouched into his chair, letting his mind and body relax as he drank. He looked wearily at his notes and the large pile of books on Celtic myth and Faerie Lore that he had found in the Council's library. He heard something tap against the leg of his chair, where he had hung his coat. Another fashion faux pas, perhaps, but he was beyond caring about etiquette. He was even convinced that his decision to hang his coat over the chair was a sub-conscious mark of rebellion, a part of the old Ripper let out to play.

He heard again the gentle tapping on the leg of the chair and looked down to see the source of it. It was his jacket, gently swinging, but the swing betrayed the weight within it. Giles checked the pocket and found a book within.

It was the book of Poe stories that Giles had taken from the remains of the Merrick library. He grimaced, he had meant to check this book when he first had a chance of rest, and had forgotten all about it. He flicked again to the contents page and saw nothing surprising save the faint underlining of one of the stories within, The Purloined Letter.

Giles went to the page listed, and quickly skimmed the pages. He knew of Joseph's love of word games and puzzles, the way his lateral brain worked. It was what had made him such a good librarian.

Giles paused a moment, marking the fact that Merrick was a librarian and checked again the front of the book. He saw no sign of any form that showed which library Merrick had borrowed the book from but there was a catalogue number on the side. He looked at it closely, a smile beamed across his face as realisation struck home. "Joseph, you mad fool."

Giles leapt to his feet as if the seat had suddenly become inhumanly warm and followed the clue that Joseph had left. Giles had seen that the catalogue number wasn't any old number, but the specific cataloguing system devised by Joseph for the Watcher's main library. Giles knew where he was heading, the section that held the diaries of all the previous Watchers from down the centuries. He scoured down the shelves, his eyes reacting at the speed of thought. He found what he saw, and laughed at the wonderful sense of ingenious irony that Joseph had seized upon.

Westbury 

Willow tried desperately to calm the angry spirit within her. She could feel every blow the ravens had delivered onto the Tara-eyed dove and she could still hear her beloved's cries of pain and helplessness. But more than that she felt a rage that had not shown in her since that day she nearly destroyed the world. But now it fed into her, consuming her, trying to control her. Her eyes blazed red and black as unrelenting fury took hold of her.

She wanted to lash out, to destroy all that lay ahead of her and all that stood between her and that rage. But a counter-force was inside her, a spirit determined not to let this unwanted anger take control. A spirit armed with determination, strength and an unwillingness to once again allow the dark to control her.

She remembered Tara once saying that they should strong like Amazons, they were apt words for her confusion now and she was determined to honour them. She fought back against the rage, against the blackness. Willow could hear footsteps climbing the stairs and heading towards the door. She calmed herself, allowing her thoughts to turn towards happier memories of Tara and the safety she gave her. Willow had often done this here, in this room, when her melancholy had reached its lowest ebb and she had felt like giving into it. But now she felt Tara within her again, the warmth of love and protection that she had offered. Willow opened her eyes as the footsteps stopped at the door and a gentle knocking sounded. She smiled, her eyesight was clear again but she knew she had to explain all to Buffy.

She looked around the room, her mind clear again. It was then she noticed the blood from beneath her pillow. She lifted her pillow to see the blood seeping from a small onyx shard. Willow could sense the magic, sense the rage emanating from the shard and replaced the pillow. Willow crossed to Dawn's bed and lifted the pillow and noticed a small drop of blood there too. She nodded and made her way to the door as she heard the footsteps stop and the knob turn, her resolve face covering her features. Now this wasn't magic-fuelled anger, it was the real deal.

Dawn opened the door to the bedroom. "Hey Will! You awake? We need you downstairs. Giles is on the phone and he sounds really excited!" She asked in a friendly tone but she could see straight away that her friend was less than happy. "What's wrong?"

"I think I know what is going on here but I need to speak to Buffy and you and Giles. I don't trust the other three right now."

"Okay. We'll brave face it until Giles comes back then we'll pow-wow. Is it bad?"

"Could get very bad. Very bad indeed."

The two women went downstairs into the study, where Giles was on the speakerphone.

"Good morning, Charlie!" Exclaimed Willow as she entered. "Is this a good news call or a bad news call?" Willow saw that Dawn and Buffy had allowed themselves a small smile at her reference.

Giles chuckled. "Yes, Willow, that joke had never occurred to me. But in answer to your question it is a mixed bag really. Good news is that I have uncovered far more than expected about Morgana and Avalon. Bad news is that the time is as always against us. I believe things are now coming into motion that have been waiting centuries to happen."

"Can you give us a hint? Should we be circling the wagons?" Buffy's voice was stern and authoritative. "Are these guys going to attack us or do they have bigger fish to fry?"

"Unfortunately, both, I believe. We have information in our possession at the house that they sorely need so the attack is inevitable I am afraid. But they do have a wider purpose, one I am only now being able to understand. Buffy, if Morgana succeeds, you will have lost a powerful new ally, amongst other things. I will explain more when I get back. I am leaving right now."

"Hurry back, Giles." Buffy's voice was tinged with apprehension.

"I will."

The sound of the receiver being replaced signalled the end of the call and Buffy rose to her feet. "Okay! You heard him. We have a fight coming and we need to be prepared. You found out Morgana's strengths and weaknesses?"

Carter shook his head. "Nothing here, save for a few oblique references. All of them talk about her "champion" but there isn't any real description of him, or her for that matter."

"Not good. Keep looking cos we have to have some sort of way to get through this should she come in all magic guns a-blazing. Speaking of, Will, you ready to take these guys on?"

"Sort of. I had a nightmare whilst I was asleep, has me kinda rocking."

Dawn looked at Willow. "Nightmare? Like I had?"

Willow nodded. "Same set up, different outcome. I don't know if I can handle the magic if it comes on strong."

Buffy looked Willow straight in the eyes. "Yes you can! More over, you're going to have to. Without any idea of a weak spot your magic on hers might be the only chance we have of slowing her down."

Willow let out a heavy sigh, then put on her best resolve face and returned the steely gaze. "Okay, I'll go and double check the alarms."

"Good! Whittaker, Go with her. I'll keep David with me, he may be the one they are looking for. Everyone else, hit the books and grab a weapon. We have a long night ahead."

Willow and Whittaker headed out the door. He was armed with a shotgun that he had raided from Giles' gun cupboard, and was arming it as they walked up the driveway towards the furthest alarm.

Willow checked the runes and symbols on the ground and felt the aura that emanated from the ground. It was working. She smiled, pleased that the magic had stayed, despite her weakening from exhaustion when setting them up.

As if by collective instinct, both Willow and Whittaker stood straight up as they heard a distant sound. It was faint, but distinctive. The engine that they could hear was getting louder and nearer. It was fully mechanical, yet something in the noise and rhythm of the engine made it sound ominous.

Willow turned to look at Whittaker, who now stood shotgun in hand, ready to face off whatever was coming towards the drive. "Do you know ho to use that thing or are you just big with the posing?"

Whittaker answered her with a simple glare. A glare that said in clear tones "How dare you question my abilities at a time like this?"

Willow flashed an expression of "Sorry" to Whittaker before turning her attention back again towards the road.

Buffy could feel the hairs on her neck stand up on end. She knew what it meant. Her Slayer senses had long since been attuned to detect the slightest hint of trouble, especially that of a supernatural origin. And this was supernatural, **very** supernatural.

Her eyes drifted towards the darkening skylight and saw the source of her apprehension. The sky was filled with the sight of birds. They were too far away to be described in detail, but she was pretty sure that when they were close enough, they would look exactly like ravens.

She could feel the nervousness of those around her. David was already looking for somewhere to hide from the coming storm. Buffy felt pity for him, that a boy so young should see so much death and evil so young in life. That he would lose his mother and father in front of his eyes. She wondered what that would do to him in the long term, but decided to ensure there would be a long term for him.

Buffy looked around the room and saw Dawn standing at another window, sword at the ready. She was proud of her sister and how she had come from being the pest little sibling to the strong woman that now was ready to defend herself and the others in this house.

The rest of the Watchers were armed with axes and swords and all carried pistols. Buffy still didn't like firearms all that much but right now she was thankful for the firepower as she was convinced they would need it.

Buffy turned her head once more towards the skyline and saw that the birds were moving at almost inhuman speed. They had changed altitude, dropping now and making a direct line for the window that Buffy was staring out from, the window to which she could see young David had stood looking out of with her.

"Get down! They're going for the boy!" Buffy roared out the order like a General commanding troops on the battlefield. Her senses and reflexes heightened she launched herself away from the window, grabbing David as she did so.

Willow and Whittaker raced towards the house, seeing the ravens attacking. She could sense the dark magic all around her, trying to penetrate her as the ravens had done in her nightmare.

A roar echoed from behind them and they turned. They saw a large army truck had appeared, driven by a young man with blonde hair and muscular build. The back of truck exploded in a ball of light and five Salnash, the same demons that Willow had killed in the Council's infirmary, leapt out in all directions.

Whittaker looked at Willow as she began to utter arcane phrases and gesture with her hands. He had seen what she had been capable of in the Council's infirmary and he stood back to give her room. In an instance, four of the Salnash flew backwards as if thrown by some invisible force. But the fifth shrugged off the kinetic energy that had bombarded it, and came forward.

Almost on instinct, Willow tried once more with the electrical tendrils that had worked so well in the infirmary. The demon leapt to avoid the Technicolor lines of current that snaked towards it. But the current followed, as if it had caught the demon's scent and was moving in for the kill. It caught the demon's body in its grasp and began to squeeze and impale its victim. The demon writhed and squealed in excruciating pain as it fell to the ground, trying to escape the tendrils of electrical energy that enveloped it. After a few moments the writhing stopped, save for the nervous system jolting to the shocks of the excess energy as it dissipated.

The remaining Salnash had watched the horror show with passive consideration for the witch's power. But now as the last breath left their comrade's body, they found themselves overcome with a single determination: to kill the witch.

Willow reacted on instinct, pulling Whittaker with her as she began to float away from the demons and towards the house. She was acutely aware of the attack happening at the house but felt that indoors and in cover was preferable to being out in the open.

Whittaker was used to flying, of course, but not like this and he didn't like it. But he had surmised his options and come to the conclusion that this was by far the best one. But he saw the hideous beasts coming in, faster and faster, as if they had gauged the speed of Willow's retreat and had compensated for it. He raised the shotgun and aimed for the closest demon. To his left, he heard Willow cry "No!" a split second before he fired.

The shot ripped through the demon's chest, tearing flesh, bone and cartilage before dropping its now lifeless carrier to the ground as it exited through several points in its back. The gun's recoil was more than Willow had prepared for and it broke her hold on Whittaker, spinning him downward as she sped up, the spell still at the same level that carried two, now carried only herself but at an increased velocity. She slowed herself down in a matter of moments but it was all that the demons needed to pounce on the butler.

He fired again, catching one demon in the arm, ripping it violently out of its own shoulder and spinning limply to the ground. But now the gun was empty and the three demons, including the wounded one, leapt as one to where he stood. Whittaker swung his shotgun like a club, hoping to knock one away, or down. He had hoped that at least the wildness of his swing would make them pause, if only momentarily, to allow him some means of escape. But he saw through his terrified eyes that they did not slow, or stop, or pause.

Willow attempted to float upwards again, trying to reach the old man, but the ravens that were attacking the west wing now broke of and 4 of them flew around her, putting her off balance and away from Whittaker. With speed of thought a fireball erupted from her hands and dispelled the ravens in a flash of flame. Willow now desperately tried to make up the distance in time, tried to get close enough for the energy bolt, or fireball, or to pull the old butler away, but she was too late. She watched helplessly as one of the demons tore into his flesh, ripping his torso nearly in two with one swing of its arms. The wounded one used its one good arm to hold tight around Whittaker's throat, squeezing and crushing the life out of its quarry. The third raked its claws across the old man's chest, exposing his organs as his body collapsed in death. She could see now their priorities change, and looked at her with eyes of lustful murder.

Buffy heard the glass break as the ravens flew into the library, the air thick with black feathered death and fearful cawing like war cries from the enemy. She stood up, swinging her sword one way and another, hacking at the ravens as they came at her. She could see amongst the black cloud of feathers and claws that the Watchers were not fairing well. Dawn had retreated into a corner and was doing her best but she had already begun to bleed from the multiple hits from the ravens' pecking. Alan, Diane and Claire all too seemed to be just about holding on. Only David was unscathed and that, she decided, was more to do with her being an effective shield more than luck on his part. But Buffy knew that without help, they would be over-run.

M4, Just outside London 

Giles hated the traffic at times like this. He had hoped that his sojourn to the Watcher's library would not have taken so long but now he felt he had time to make up. But he needed to phone first. What he had discovered in Merrick's notes and journal raised questions that he needed answered. But Giles, angry as he was, was determined to keep proper respect.

He sat in the service station at Junction 3 and dialled the number. It was answered almost immediately.

"Hello, Althanea Harkness, who's calling please?"

"Its Rupert Giles, Miss Harkness."

"Hello, Mister Giles. Is everything alright?"

"No. I have found Joseph's notes here at the Council library. I have his notes and journal and you have a lot of explaining to do. How could you not tell me what was going on?"

"I made a promise to my daughter, Mister Giles. And I had hoped it was a false alarm and not the final battle for Avalon."

"Well it may be far more than that. You should have told me. Now I am heading back to my house to collect my entourage and then we are going to come and pay you a visit and I suggest you have the answers ready for when we arrive."

"Yes, I will. Just ensure that you all arrive safely here. I have a feeling that we will all be in great peril quite soon."

Giles put the phone down. He was not used to betrayal. He had in his time as a younger man betrayed others and had even betrayed Buffy on a couple of occasions but he had never been the victim of it, not until now, and he didn't like how it felt for a moment.

He turned the key in the ignition and set off again to the house. He knew he had to get there soon. Had to gather his forces and head to the Coven in Devon and hope to God that Morgana wasn't lying in wait to waylay them en route.

He had read much that had disturbed him and he was determined to find out the answer to one question above all others.

Who, or what, were the Entwined?


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter 8

_**Westbury, England**_

Willow flew with all her speed back to the farmhouse, the Salnash behind her gaining ground with every step. She entered the house, muttering a few Latin words as she did so. She could faintly hear the ringing of the magical alarms above the incessant din of screams and cawing from the humans and ravens within the library. She looked behind her and saw the demons trying to get through the invisible barrier her words had erected. Willow knew her spell wouldn't last for long under their barrage of blows, but it would buy her time. She could feel herself getting weaker, and seeing Whittaker die like that had made her nauseous as well. She shook off the feeling, composed herself quickly, and headed for the library.

She opened the door, looking at the swirling cloud of winged death that choked the room, pecking and biting and ripping at Buffy, Dawn and the Watchers. She could feel the anger in her start to rise up again once more, her mind flitting back to her dream and Tara-dove's violent end. She saw Diane, the one who had been unfortunate to carry the name of Morgan, lying motionless on the floor. Her body covered with an array of claw marks from the ravens that still tore into her lifeless flesh.

Willow began to chant, her eyes burning black and red as she uttered a mixture of Latin and demonic tongues at speed. The air crackled around her, pulsing with an unnatural light as she gazed around the room. The chanting stopped and the room filled up with the light emanating from her form. Willow saw Buffy and the others hide their eyes. What they did not see, but heard with crystal clear clarity, was the birds exploding one by one as the light touched them. The shrieks and small explosions of their internal organs and muscles filled the air. The ravens attempted to flee but found the light too fast to escape from. One by one they fell, broken wings and bodies falling in all directions.

Buffy could feel the light dimming and felt safe to look over at her friend. For the briefest of moments, she saw not the red-haired friendly face she was so used to, but the black-haired and black-eyed killer who had been perhaps her toughest adversary. After a moment the red-hair and natural eyes returned, but Buffy was still shaken and she could see that Willow knew it.

She had no time to ask Willow about the transformation as she heard a crashing sound from within the hallway and saw the three figures standing there. Buffy recognised them at once as the demons that had attacked David and her friends in the infirmary and saw that one of them was missing an arm, not that that seemed to be slowing it down at all. They moved purposely, and she signalled to Willow to get into the library, allowing her room to manoeuvre.

Willow quickly made her way into the library and set up the energy bolt spell that had proven so successful on previous occasions. As the demons came through she shot out a bolt, hitting one of the unwounded demons squarely in the chest, forcing it back outside the library and squealing onto the ground as it flailed around frantically in its last moments of life.

Buffy took the initiative from there, rolling under the swing of the one-armed demon and carrying her momentum into her sword swing. The result almost sliced the demon in two, such was the impact of the blow. It buckled under its own dead weight, bringing Buffy down with it as she struggled to regain her sword before the other demon attacked.

The third demon had set its sights on Willow and had bounded to her in one step. He saw that she was wavering, teetering on weakness and he intended to take full advantage. As he saw Willow fall backwards, wearily, he raised his arms and attempted to strike her with the full weight of his claws. So concentrated on her was he, in fact, that he did not notice the axe swing from behind him hitting home. When it did, he growled in pain and turned his head to see a young woman, attempting to remove the axe and use it once more.

Dawn tried to remove the axe but to no avail. It was embedded and she was not strong enough to remove it. But now as she let go the demon turned round on her and attempted to swat her. She ducked, remarking to herself that it was an insult that the demon saw her as nothing more than a creature to be swatted, before deciding that species critique was best done after combat had ended. She moved quickly, attempting to get out of the way of the demon and almost succeeded before she was clipped as it backhanded her.

Buffy, who had jockeyed herself into a suitable position behind it, now chose this moment to strike. She did so with almost inhuman ferocity, fuelled by her wish to protect her sister. The blow from her sword struck through the right side of the demon, sliding through him as if he were not there and exiting out of the left half of his back, removing the axe as it cleared the demon's body. It dropped, its body oozing blood and sinew as it collapsed.

Willow got up from the ground, still weary and looking about her. She saw the body of Diane, and went over to her, removing her own coat and placing it over Diane's body. She looked behind her and saw that Buffy was checking Dawn for permanent damages, although it looked more like a mother worrying over a child than a sister looking after her younger, but still a grown woman, sibling.

"That was too close!" Said Buffy, almost accusatory in tone. "We are way over our heads here and if we don't get some sort of help or answers soon we're not gonna survive another onslaught."

Willow looked at her and nodded agreement. "There is plenty we need to discuss about this whole business."

Buffy looked at her friend sternly. "Yes there is."

Avalon 

"You can't seriously be thinking of sending her away! She is only a child!" Tara couldn't hold back her anger any longer. She had sat and listened to Nimue and heard her decision to send Heather and Michelle away, as she was convinced that one of them was tainted, and had been the reason for the attack. Tara looked at the two 'accused', and saw that Michelle seemed bemused and terrified and that Heather was crying. Tara went over to her young charge and comforted her.

"Avalon is in danger as long as they remain within the Veil. We have no choice here, Tara. This attack is both unprecedented and disturbing and radical action, regardless of what I may think or feel on the matter, is required here. Avalon's safety must be paramount in my mind."

"And if their memories don't return, what then? You will leave these two out there in the mortal world without any clue as to who they are or how to cope. Goddess knows what might happen to them in those circumstances. I can't understand how you can sit there and order this in good conscience!"

"Because I need to see the wider picture, Tara. Someday you will see that I made the right choice."

"No I won't. If you are sending Heather away then you are sending me with her. I won't leave her on her own, especially if she loses her memories."

"But if you do as well then you would not recognise her, how would that help her? You are an adept member of the Order, Tara, you should remain here."

"Knowing that I let her go? Wondering every day whether or not she is still alive, or happy? No, I won't do that. I can't. If she goes, I go with her."

"Surely Michelle can look after her?"

"No offence to Michelle, but she doesn't know Heather and it is not her place to take on such responsibility. I made that choice, and I won't give it up due to the whim of this Order. My mind is made up. If Heather goes, I go."

Nimue shook her head, looking defeated. "As you wish. I will send word ahead that three are passing through the Veil. I am sorry, Tara. I hope one day you will forgive this action."

"We can all hope." Replied Tara, sternly. She looked down at Heather, and smiled. "Don't worry. I won't leave you."

Wyngarde Castle 

Amy entered Morgan's private bedchamber. Morgan was on her bed, sheets barely hiding her naked flesh beneath. On either side of her mistress, Amy saw the dead body of her lovers. _So the rumour is true_, thought Amy, _she does stay young through some sort of Succubus style transference._

"So, Amy, was the attack on the Giles home successful?"

"Yes. Willow used her powers to defeat the ravens, turning black eyed as she did so. I believe she is ripe for your control now. The gateway in her head is open."

"Excellent. Now all we need to do is set an attack that will make her lose control completely. We will send a full party to attack the Coven in Devon. That should bring the Slayer and Willow down to their knees. Is Philippe ready?"

"Yes, milady. He has bathed as you requested. Are you sure that ointment will work?"

"Worked well enough for Mordred, bar a few glitches, and I have perfected it. Trust me, no weapon can harm him, not even one in the hands of the Slayer."

"When do wish the attack to happen?"

"Now is as good a time as any, Amy. Now leave me, and send two more men to see me, would you?" She smiled an almost excited smile.

Westbury 

Giles screeched his car to a halt. As he had approached he had seen the devastation around the farmhouse and ran into the house, barely closing the door of his car as he leapt out of it.

"Buffy! Willow! Dawn!" He shouted as if pleading for an answer. He gave himself a silent prayer in hope that some God might show some compassion.

"In here", replied Buffy's familiar voice from the living room.

Giles entered and saw the wounded being patched up and healed. All of them looked as though they had been in the wars. But he saw immediately that two were missing. "Where are Morgan and Whittaker?"

"Dead. There are a lot of questions that need answering, Giles. A lot has happened." Buffy looked across again at Willow, a nervous look on her face.

"Yes, well, I have information as well so I suggest I get what I need from the car and then we will have a 'show and tell', shall we? Buffy, could you perhaps help me bring some of the items from the car?"

"Yes. I will."

They walked out together towards Giles car, the tension that was present in the house no less present out in the driveway.

"What has happened here, Buffy?"

"We had a true Hitchcockian moment in your library thanks to a flock of ravens. Three guys who looked like outcasts from Predator killed Whittaker and tried to slice us all up Wolverine style and Willow went full on dark mode to take out our feathered friends."

"Willow reverted to her darker self?"

"Oh, yeah. She got control back fast but she was there in all her gothic glory and I don't like it Giles."

"Nor I. From what I have amassed from the Watchers' library I have ascertained two things. One, both Avalon and Morgan Le Fey are very real and two, more worryingly, is that Althanea knew more about this than she let on. There is an awful lot of secrecy involved in this Buffy. Secrets that are only now coming to light and possibly coming far too late."

"Does Willow's Darth Vader-ing have anything to do with it? Cos I really don't need a sequel to that horror show."

"I'm not sure. What seems clear is that Morgana does like to have an apprentice at all times, someone to pass on her knowledge to. It may be that she has sensed Willow's dark side and sees her as a ripe candidate. All I do know is that we must now find a way to control Willow and stop these dark shifts in her emotions from becoming permanent again. I have arranged to meet up with Althanea and her Coven to find out what she knows, in the presence of all of us. She may know some way of helping Willow."

"She better. I'm not taking on Morgana and all her cronies **and** Willow. I couldn't handle that."

They started back inside when Giles suddenly stopped. "Yes, I hear you, Willow."

Buffy smiled, the old telepathy for sending secret messages still worked a treat.

"I understand, Willow. Yes, that might explain a great deal. No, I don't think it would be wise to involve them at all now. I think I will send them on an errand whilst we discuss this thing amongst the four of us." Giles paused for a moment, as if taking in some new information. "That is risky but if you can do it without hurting them it would be helpful. I see. Yes, we will be right in."

"Okay Giles, share! I know Willow is good with the whole telepathy thing but half a conversation is kinda rude, especially under the circumstances."

"Willow has used a small sedative to send Claire and Alan to sleep. She doesn't trust them and has told me why. I think this may answer some questions about what happened with Willow."

They entered the house and saw Willow motion to him from the top of the staircase. Both of them followed, until they stopped at Willow and Dawn's bedroom. Giles and Buffy followed Dawn into the room but noticed that Willow would not follow them.

"Its under my pillow, where the blood is." Said Willow, leaning against the doorframe.

Giles lifted up the pillow and saw the onyx shard, lying there. The blood had started to dry on it now and it was crusty to the touch. He looked up and saw that Willow had backed away from the door, into the hallway. "You are convinced it sent you the dream?"

"Yeah, there's a spot of blood under Dawn's pillow too. I think they placed under her pillow by mistake last night. They wouldn't have realised their mistake until Dawn mentioned the dream. Then whoever it was took a chance at some point before I went to lie down to switch the shard."

"And you had the same dream. Ravens and a dove in a gilded cage?" Giles was now equal parts concerned father figure and dutiful Watcher.

"Similar but different. I think cos it was Dawn the dream affected her differently. The ravens attacked her and bit into her but they didn't with me. They went through me, time and again, and then pecked at her…" Willow started to sob, her words becoming more broken.

"What is it, Willow? Please we must know." The concerned father in him came to the fore, and he went to Willow and put his arm around her to comfort her.

"The dove in the cage, it was Tara. It had her eyes and when the ravens hit her I could hear Tara screaming. It was horrible, it was like watching her die all over again."

"And you felt the same rage inside you as you did when that happened didn't you?" Asked Giles, his voice patient.

"When I woke up, I could feel that my eyes were burning. I saw my reflection and all my hair and eyes and lips were black. I fought it back but I could feel all that anger bubbling underneath me."

"Buffy, what was happening when you saw Willow become her dark self again?"

"There were ravens, all over the library, attacking us." Buffy looked at Giles, then Willow, realisation dawning in her expression. "So, Morgana tapped into your base anger, using a dove with Tara's voice and eyes and ravens attacking her. So when you saw us being attacked by ravens your mind went into automatic vengeance mode."

"She is using a very powerful, extremely potent form of mystical brainwashing. I can only assume that she intends for Willow to let go completely and enter her service as her apprentice." Giles gave Willow a small but comforting embrace, letting her know in that tiny exchange that he still cared and had not lost his faith in her.

"You know, why doesn't she just call herself Darth Morgana, she's using every other Jedi trick in the book." Said Dawn, trying to lighten the load. She knew it hadn't succeeded, not even for herself.

Willow began to shake. "I have to go. I can't be near you if she decides to use another trick like that to force me over the edge. I won't go back to that place, Giles. I can't."

"You won't. I promise. I think we should leave right now and head to Devon and meet with Althanea and the Coven and see what we can do."

"What about all the other juicy titbits you found, Giles? Anything there worth that might help us."

"A fair bit, in fact. All to do with a being called the Entwined. A powerful force made up of two opposing forces coming together. Joseph left all his notes and journal in the Watchers Library. He always liked puzzles and games. Remember the book that was in his safe, Willow? The collection of Poe stories?"

"I remember. Margaret thought it was worthless."

"She was wrong although she had no way of knowing it at the time. He had underlined the story 'The Purloined Letter', which is basically about something being hidden in plain sight. In this case he had hidden his notes in the Watchers Library, leaving the precise location as a book code on the spine of his Poe novel. To the casual observer it looked like a standard library sorting code but his code was similar but specific. He hid it in the one place he knew the Watchers would never think to look: In the Watcher diary of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. I guess he couldn't resist the irony of it."

"Irony?", chorused Dawn, Buffy and Willow.

"Yes. The man most of the Watchers believed to be the most inept and incompetent unknowingly hiding amongst his unread diaries the secrets of Avalon and the prophecy of the Entwined."

"Does Althanea know about this Entwined?" Asked Buffy, now turning her mind to business.

"The full story, I'm not sure but she certainly knows more than she has been telling."

"Then we better get there then, cos I have a few questions of my own and I better start getting some truth!"

"What about our sleeping beasts downstairs?" asked Dawn, "One of them could have been responsible for placing that shard in here."

"We need to get to Miss Harkness as soon as possible. If they have attacked here they may perceive the Coven as a threat as well and attack them in a similar manner. We have no choice but to take them with us. Hopefully the sedative Willow gave them will last for the journey down."

Buffy didn't like the idea of dealing with a possible spy **and** this new nemesis but she saw the wisdom in Giles' words. "Okay. But we keep them immobile just in case they wake up."

"Agreed." Answered Giles.

He went downstairs, looking around his house, the scars of battle clearly visible in the décor and furniture. He went into the study and grabbed a few choice volumes from the desk, flicking bits of dead raven off of them and shaking his head as he mentally calculated the costs of repairs to his home.

By the time he had reached the front door, Buffy had tied up Alan and Claire and was carrying Alan over her shoulder, whilst Dawn and Willow carried Claire. Giles ushered them towards the large Range Rover that he had parked nearby. It was a big enough, just to squeeze the two unconscious watchers, along with Buffy and Dawn, in the back seat whilst Willow sat in the front alongside Giles.

Devon 

Althanea Harkness was deep in thought. She had honestly hoped and prayed that this day would never come. That the need for this battle wouldn't happen in her lifetime or that the legends were untrue and that her daughter and her husband, may they rest in peace, were wrong in some way.

But she knew now that all of it was true and that everything that Michelle and Joseph had fought, and died, to protect was now in jeopardy. And yet Althanea desperately wanted it to be elsewhere. She looked down from the balcony in the main hall of the coven to see the other members below preparing to meet the onslaught she was sure would arrive soon. She looked upon her sisters, and of the men that allied themselves with them, and saw that they were young and old, tall and short, black and white, and all of them scared of what was to come.

She shared their fear but knew that hiding now would not help them, nor protect them from the terror that was Morgan Le Fey. She would hunt down the members of the Coven no matter where they fled, so here and now, in this place, was as good a place to make a stand as any, Althanea had decided.

She hoped and prayed that Rupert Giles would arrive soon. Buffy would be a great asset, as would Willow. She was especially happy that Willow was coming down, as she had much she needed to talk to her former student about. There was so much that was needed to be said if Rupert would allow her the chance, for she felt it was her own place to say it.

Althanea looked out of the window near the balcony, saw the approaching twilight and the darkening sky, and saw, on the horizon, the barely visible flight of birds that were heading in her direction.

It was too soon, but time was now no longer theirs to contemplate. She looked down upon the congregation below and shouted:

"Get ready! They are coming! She is coming!"


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter 9

_**Avalon**_

Tara had never been to the lake before. She had heard the tales of course, heard about all the people who had crossed back and forth. She hadn't known what to expect from this place, but she hadn't expected this.

It was a cold place, damp and mist-covered, as if all the cold and dark and damp had been collected from all round the realm and deposited here. The whole area seemed cloaked in perpetual twilight and it chilled Tara to the bone.

She looked at Michelle, standing on her right hand side. Tara couldn't help but feel pity for her. To have come here as a place of peace only to be sent back out again had taken its toll on Michelle, she could tell. But as much as Tara felt for her new companion, it would not compensate for the bitterness and anger that tinged this whole affair.

Tara felt Heather squeeze her left hand tighter. Ever since the attack from the ravens Heather had refused to leave her side. Tara worried about what the real world would be like for her young companion. Of the three of them, Heather had the most to lose but also more chance of re-adjusting, should they lose all their memories. But she had been the only friend, the only guardian, this young girl had really known since her arrival and whilst the rest of the Coven seemed willing to abandon her, Tara would not.

She looked over at Nimue. Anger hazed her view. She understood Nimue's fear, but not her reaction. For the first time in its history, Avalon had fallen under attack and now, when they needed every hand on deck, they were sending three away.

_No, that was wrong_, Tara corrected herself. _Not three, two_. _The decision to leave Avalon was mine, not theirs. They wanted me to stay, but how can I? I won't let this little one be sent away from her home with a stranger._

As if she could hear her thoughts, Heather squeezed Tara's hand a little tighter. "Tara, what is going to happen to us?"

"I don't know, sweetie. But we will deal with it, you and I. I'm sure Michelle will be with us too. Don't worry yourself." Tara's words were re-assuring, the tone motherly. It was a gift that Tara had found came naturally to her, a talent she possessed. It came in handy at times like this and Heather was in need of a mother figure now more than ever.

Michelle nodded. "We stay together. Hopefully we will remember each other once we pass through the Veil and perhaps get some of our old memories back. Anyway, we should stay together for as long as possible."

From the lake Tara could hear the sound of a small boat, its oars lapping the water as it approached. It seemed to float out of the mist, the water barely visible through the fog. The boat seemed reminiscent of old Viking longships, and as she looked closer she could even see the dragon's head at the bow of the ship.

Nimue came down now to the three of them, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I am sorry for this extreme course of action, but after talking with Lord Gawain, he agrees with me that this is our only course. I am sorry, I truly am, and I hope one day you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

Without turning or acknowledging the speaker, Tara, Michelle and Heather boarded the ship and sat on the soft seats that had been provided. They looked at where they would be going, their backs turned on Nimue and Karen, who were there representing the Order. As the ship left into the mist, they did not look back.

Karen turned to Nimue. "I hope this works. Are you sure she will understand the reasons why?"

"Yes, Karen, I think she will. She thinks I have hurt the child by doing this, but I may have just saved Heather's life. I think Tara will understand, when it all comes to pass, that we couldn't take the chance."

"So what do we do now?"

"We prepare for the end. Avalon has played its part in this. The real battle is in the new world. We are only here as bait for the trap. Once Morgana is defeated, Avalon will relinquish its power to the Entwined so they may use our light in the dwelling of the Master's Son."

"And if Morgana succeeds in discovering the Entwined and destroying them before they make contact?"

"Then all is lost. But we could not tell them. Our allies are few in number and the enemy is all around, dark and treacherous. We must hope that secrecy and destiny guide us here. May the mortal world forgive the interim."

A39, Devon 

Giles was weary and the constant hum of the engine and lack of conversation was not helping him stay awake. The day had been long and he could feel sleep over-powering him. He had swapped places with Willow, allowing her to drive whilst he looked through his papers, notes and journals.

Buffy awoke, as if on cue to keep Giles awake, shaking some of the tiredness from her eyes. "Okay Giles, what is this Entwined business? You said something about two becoming one, what's with that?" Her demeanour and tone of voice was all business. There was no time for pleasantries.

"Its all quite vague. I found a prophecy referring to the Entwined in Joseph's journal. He was convinced that it would come to be and indeed may have died to protect it. Ah! Here it is."

Buffy took the book that Giles handed to her and read the page out aloud.

"For it shall come to pass that,

In the first decade of the third Millennium,

The Entwined shall come.

They shall hail from the new world

But will join as one in the old.

One shall be human, bathed in dark power,

The other shall be Fey, source of the eclipse.

And, having joined in heart and mind, body and spirit,

They shall inherit the mantle of Avalon.

They shall bring hope to the despairing,

Serenity to the chaos,

Light to the shadows,

And be a path to the lost.

They shall return to the new world,

To the house of the Master's son,

To protect the weak and the innocent,

From the influence and grasp of the Enemy."

"So they're good guys, these two people?" Asked Willow as all of them felt the tension rise and temperature drop in the car.

"Afterwards yes, from all accounts. But the human may very well be evil prior to this "Entwining". Also, if this prophecy is accurate, then Avalon may very well be destined for destruction and our attempts to protect it may either be futile or, should we actually succeed in protecting it, may inadvertently stop this prophecy from coming to pass and we could find ourselves left without a very powerful ally."

Buffy stared at Giles as he spoke. She had been so used to him having the right theory for the right moment and it disturbed her that he was struggling to find an equal footing. "But you think Althanea knows who these two are?"

"Perhaps. But she certainly may know exactly what Avalon's true purpose is. Right now getting to her and getting this information is vital if we are to plan any course of action."

"Then why didn't she give up the info to us straight away?" Asked Dawn, who had stirred with the voices, determined to add her voice to the discussion.

"I think I know why." Answered Giles, gesturing to the two unconscious Watchers between Buffy and Dawn. "The Coven, Joseph and Michelle, they may very well have realised that Morgana and this "Enemy" had spies within the Council. They may have decided that telling no one was safer for the inhabitants of Avalon."

"A human, bathed in dark power. That's a pretty good one-line description of me, isn't it? I mean, Morgana trying to control me, could be just her way of making sure I don't meet this eclipsing Fey and join with them." Willow's voice was shaking, but her tone was matter-of-fact.

Buffy and Dawn looked first at each other then at Giles, who nodded his head and spoke. "Yes, I haven't ruled out the possibility that you are the human mentioned in this, Willow. But it is far too early to assume anything. Once we have spoken with Althanea we will be able to formulate some proper lines of enquiry."

Dawn looked a little pale. "And this joining thing, what's that? Is that like, Willow and this Fey person become one body cos YUCK!!"

"I'm not sure. It could mean that, or perhaps some sort of mating ritual. The Entwined is only mentioned in the plural, which makes me think that it is not one entity but a collective term."

Willow looked horrified. "Mating ritual? I don't think so! Giles, there is no way I am mating with anything male. You know, Hello? Gay here! Doesn't that count for anything in prophecies?"

"As I say, we know too little to worry with idle speculation. The only thing we know is that Morgana and Avalon are very real and Miss Harkness has answers that may shed some light on this situation."

Willow turned the final corner in the road onto a small dirt road that led to an inclining valley that held the Coven's temple.

Buffy saw the temple, a murder of ravens attempting to enter every window, and a light show of magical and electrical energy, like some torrid firework display, pulsing from within the temple. "Everybody get ready! One big battle coming up!"

Coven's Temple, Devon 

Gabriel Caine looked out of the window and saw the small flock of ravens heading towards him. He shook his head and sighed. _Have these Bastards not given up yet? This is the fifth salvo on this window. Still, I feel like Raven Tonight. _He smiled at his own inner pun and raised his MP5 machine gun once more. He squeezed the trigger and let the gun do its worst. The ravens, six in number fell quickly, falling under the rain of bullets that were fired at them. Gabe smiled, satisfied with his work, and took a moment to survey the main temple below the balcony where he stood.

The barriers were for the most part holding but the ravens were nothing if not persistent. Some of the birds had entered and were being made short work of by the Coven and the swords of the men that were there too. Gabriel slung the MP5 over his back, drew his rapier, and like some buccaneer in a swashbuckling film, leapt from the balcony to engage some of the feathered fiends below.

Althanea, from her position on the same balcony, could do nothing but give a worried smile as she saw Gabriel jump into the fray. Whilst she was glad for his help, she had seen the dark tint in his visage, and knew he would need calming later. She looked out again at the scene outside and saw that below, the battle had changed. There had been a small band of men attempting to get into the building, but now they had another problem to deal with. Althanea smiled, the Slayer had arrived. And so had Willow.

She watched intently as she saw Buffy nimbly and ably cut through the line of men that stood between her and the temple door. Equally Giles and Dawn were showing their prowess with blades. These were ordinary men, rather than demons or magically enhanced, and their skills were no match for well-trained Watchers. But she focused her attention on Willow, and saw that she was hanging back, doing the bare minimum to defend herself, leaving the bulk of the work to her three companions as she remained beside the Land Rover they had arrived in.

Willow stayed near the car, she had been given a simple task: to protect David who had hidden himself within the car. But she knew the real reason she had been told to hold back. As much as they loved her and told her they trusted her, Willow knew they wouldn't risk her dark half coming out. So, Willow sat on top of the car, using her telekinetic power to throw people away from it as they approached. She wanted to do more, much more, but was well aware of how weak she was becoming and that if she started to do something more violent she may very well tip over the edge, and she wouldn't allow that.

Buffy sliced through the last of Morgana's minions and saw that the birds had flown away, cawing and shrieking as if sending out one last jibe before exiting. She composed herself, and looked around her to ensure no one was left and that her friends were safe. Happy that all was well Buffy moved to the front door, to be greeted by a happy and relieved Althanea and an exhausted Coven and entourage within.

"Welcome Buffy, welcome all. Blessed be! Your timing is as superb as ever. I doubt we would have held out if you had not arrived when you did."

"Spare me! We have questions and you have answers. Don't think this is a social call. And don't think this was the last of the attacks either. My guess is they are re-grouping ready for another strike."

Giles always admired Buffy's ability to take command when necessary. But she was doing more than that here, she was making the line known, and that Althanea had crossed it. Her language was terse, and Giles felt like stopping her, but knew it was necessary and decided to stand by his Slayer.

Althanea looked at Buffy and Giles and lowered her head. "Yes, it is time for answers. We will go to my office. Gabriel, please join us there."

Giles noticed the man nod as he was wiping blood from his sword, his hair slightly tinged with balck that reverted to their natural brown hue as he watched. "You can't honestly expect him to stand by you, not after what he did? He has no consideration for rules and authority. He could turn on you in an instant if he doesn't agree with your instructions."

Gabriel strode purposefully to Althanea's side. "I could say something about people in glass houses, Mister Giles, but that would be stating the obvious. I owe these people, and especially Joseph and Michelle, more loyalty than you will ever know."

Althanea shook her head. "Enough! We will go to my office and settle all questions. Or at least those I know the answers to."

Glastonbury 

The boat moved slowly but surely across the water. Tara had found three packs with sandwiches and apple juice in each. She had wanted to throw them overboard, in an act of defiance. But Heather was hungry and she felt the need to replenish her own strength.

"Eat your sandwiches, Heather. I don't want you to leave any and then say you are hungry later."

"Surely they wouldn't let us starve?" Asked Michelle.

"Right now I don't know what to think. All I know is if we do lose our memories we are in big trouble although I suppose if we can find a hospital of some sort we should be okay."

"I can't understand why they sent us back through the Veil. Surely it would have been better to put us somewhere safe and ensure we were okay."

"I think that is what they were thinking, that they were sending us away to be safe. But it should have been our decision to go, not theirs to banish you both. I am sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry. It wasn't your fault." Michelle looked at Heather, who was once more snuggling into Tara. She saw Tara instinctively wrap her arms around Heather. "Heather must mean a lot to you, for you to go with her."

"She does. I guess I didn't really understand how much she did mean to me until now. But I couldn't let her go out here on her own."

Heather hugged Tara with all her might. She knew that Tara had been the only one to protect her, the only one to stand up for her. The only one who had ever bothered to check on her, more than was considered polite, at any rate.

Tara did love her young friend, as she looked upon her as a younger sister or daughter, and was fiercely protective of Heather for that reason. But she was worried about what would happen when they hit the shoreline. If they lost their memories, would she lose all her love for Heather as well? She shook the idea from her mind, determined to see only the positive.

"We will be at the lakeside soon. I think we will be okay. I just have a feeling somehow that it will all turn out okay in the end."

Coven's Temple, Devon 

Buffy's senses kicked in and she spun around, in time to see a small portal opening, and three people step out. One she recognised instantly, and she greeted her with disdain. The other two were a young woman, adorned in a black dress and cloak, with raven hair and black eyes, and a young, well-built man carrying a large broadsword. He too was black haired and was wearing loose fitting clothes that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Pirate film.

The man attacked, sword swinging directly for Buffy. Buffy blocked it, barely, and staggered backwards under the force of the blow. He pushed home the advantage, swinging again at inhuman speed. Buffy raised her sword to block and found it easier this time, until she saw that a second blade had helped block the blow. She looked for the source. It was Gabriel.

He cocked his head towards the Slayer. "Just the Watcher in me coming out I guess, Miss Summers. Sorry to have cut in." With that Gabe used his sword and weight to push the attacker back.

Buffy saw the chance and took the initiative. She swung her sword round to the man's left hand side in blurry of speed that caught him off guard. Her blade hit home, cutting through his shirt and hitting his skin, and broke off on it. Buffy staggered back, looking at the broken blade as she attempted to duck and evade the swings as the man used the momentum to swing down again and again.

Giles stepped in, Dawn flanking him on one side, Gabriel at the other. He was nervous at having the former Watcher at his side, but he was more nervous about the man ahead, and was grateful for the moment for his aid. Giles did his best to attack but the man parried his blow as if he wasn't there and swung at his mid-rift that Giles barely managed to escape from before being caught by an uppercut that had him crashing down several feet away.

Willow couldn't believe it. "Amy? Why are you here? With her?"

Amy smiled. "Isn't it obvious. Morgana has power, real power and I want it and she is going to give it to me. All I have to do is make you one of us or kill you. Personally, I want you dead."

"Why? What did I ever do to you?"

"You left me trapped for years as a rat and then you decided to end our friendship cos you didn't want to have fun with magic anymore. You caged me and then abandoned me and that's something I'm not gonna forgive." Amy launched a bolt of energy at Willow that sent her flying almost twenty feet, landing hard against a pillar.

Willow stood up, feeling the darkness within starting to rise. She subdued it, trying to back away. But she could see Amy pointing at her, conjuring. In an instant, Willow felt herself unable to move, barely able to breathe. She tried to break free physically, to move her arms, but she couldn't. She summoned up her magic, a spell to break her free, but to her horror found she could not move her lips or arms enough to recite the words or gesticulate properly.

Morgana rose above all of them, flying around like a bird newly released from her cage. Spells flew at her from the Coven and from Althanea. Bolts of energy flew toward her along with incantations to make the air heavy or to strengthen gravity to bring her down. She swatted the bolts away and countered the spells as if she were an adult being pestered by the games of children.

Althanea closed her eyes in concentration. She called out telepathically to all her Coven. "Create the Circle! We cannot defeat her. She is too strong! We must weaken her as best we can and protect Willow. Hurry!"

Buffy grabbed a sword from one of the men who had been wounded in the previous battle. "Thanks! I'll bring it back, hopefully in one piece." She spun round, just in time to block a swing from the dark man aimed at her head. She flipped over him and landed a kick into his back that caused him to stumble over. Buffy seized her moment, but felt a sharp shock of energy hit her side as she slid across the floor. She looked for the source of the blast and saw Amy, now rising up beside Morgana, smiling at her.

Morgana smiled at her young acolyte. "It is nearly time. Concentrate on the Coven in their circle. Don't kill them just yet. Make the pain last."

Gabriel sheathed his sword and took a covering position behind the two women floating above, slipping the MP5 back round to his hand. _Not the best place to try this_, _but we are all out of options. _Gabriel opened fire, aiming directly at the heads of the two women, but they ducked and weaved his bullets as if they had advance warning of their positions. He kept firing, trying to hit them but hit nothing but the empty air and walls. One of the bullets ricocheted off a pillar, hitting the dark man on the shoulder and bounced off. _Damn it! This can't get any worse._ He looked back up, to see both women directly above him. _Correction, it most certainly can get worse._ The ground gave way beneath him as it turned to quicksand, pulling him under. Gabriel tried to grab hold of the sides, to give himself some leverage, but they too became muddy and slippery in his hands. He felt himself dragged down.

Buffy dodged and weaved from the swings and thrusts of the dark man's sword. He was good and she knew she needed to be on her toes if she was going to find a way through. She saw Giles approach, only to be rocked back by a blast of energy from Amy. Buffy rolled under another swing and caught her attacker with her sword blade in between his legs. The blade broke off as she made contact but he rocked back under the force of the blow.

Dawn was doing her best to get to the Coven women sitting in a circle. She could see, out of the corner of her vision, Amy reciting a whispered incantation and the Circle being enveloped by a strange mist. It was choking the life from them, making it impossible for them to breathe. Cuts began to appear on their bodies and they screamed in agony as the mist entered their bodies, causing them to spasm and convulse. Dawn found herself slowly enveloped by the mist. She dropped, choking and writhing in agony as it seeped through her.

Giles saw Morgana's forces storm in through the main gate. They had held back, awaiting the word of their mistress, but now they charged en masse, rage and murderous intent in their eyes. Giles swung his sword, defending and attacking in equal measure. Several of the men who had been aiding the Coven's protection now joined the fracas, the sound of clashing steel echoing around the room.

Willow could take no more. She could feel the anger rise up within her and this time she let it take hold. She cast her spell, not outwardly, but onto herself, and in mere seconds had smashed the barrier that had held her back. She floated up, dark hair billowing, black eyes full of hate. She looked all around her, at Amy and Morgan and their soldiers, including the Dark Man, attacking her friends. She focused on her targets, and began to fire streams of black electrical energy from the tips of her fingers, her vision clouding out all but her enemies. She launched barrage after barrage of energy bolts and streams as she tore through the soldiers on Morgan's side.

Buffy could see Willow rise up from the ground and take a central position, her smile cruel and cold. She had little time to consider the situation as the dark man once again came at her. Buffy moved back and away, looking for some sort of hold, some sort of leverage to use against this unstoppable swordsman that swung and lunged and parried and countered every attack with devastating accuracy. If it were not for her enhanced strength and speed and reflexes, Buffy knew she would surely be dead by now.

She flipped backwards and saw Gabriel, still trying to stop himself from drowning in the quicksand floor. She spun, somersaulting over the dark man, and pressed home her attack, driving backwards now, towards the quicksand. She went all out, ensuring that her attacks were savage and strong, pushing, pushing constantly to give her the edge she needed. It worked, the dark man soon found himself slipping and sliding in the mud and finally sinking into the quicksand.

Caine viewed the Slayer almost impassively. "Sorry to bother you, as you can see I have a lot on at the moment what with the sinking and so forth but I was wondering if it isn't too much of an imposition for you could you possibly GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"

Buffy looked at the former Watcher and, getting as close as she dared to the edge of the quicksand, handed him the handle of her sword whilst she held on to the blade. As he grasped it she pulled him clear, as they both watched the dark man sink a little further, held down by his own weight and the movement, which was causing him to sink even deeper.

"I doubt that will hold him for long, especially if they see it". Caine nodded upwards at Morgana and Amy as he spoke. "By the way, thank you. I have a thing about tight spaces, and drowning." Gabriel looked up at Willow, who was now firing bolts of energy indiscriminately. "I think this place just hit Code Black. Your friend is going to need stopping, Miss Summers."

"I know, I just can't think how without killing her or hurting her. And I can't do that from here, not when she is channelling that much power through her body."

Willow rained fire down on her foes, shaking the foundations of the building and knocking over the pillars around where all within stood. Friend and foe alike were struck by falling masonry as they dove for cover. She kept up her assault, energy streaming from her fingers in waves as she targeted the soldiers of Morgana, the Dark Man, Amy and Morgana herself. But in doing so she could not see that her friends were in the path. Unbeknown to her the guards that had been aiding Althanea protect the temple were being struck by the bolts and crumbling masonry.

Althanea glided down towards them both. "Buffy, if you don't do something, Morgana will certainly re-open the portal and take Willow with her. Then everything will have been for nothing. All the secrecy and planning will have been for nothing. I will do my best to distract Morgana and her apprentice, and keep them off balance, but you must deal with Willow. Quickly, time is of the essence here."

Buffy saw Althanea make good her word, attempting to use the falling masonry to swipe at the intruders as best she could whilst dodging the fearsome strikes from Willow. Buffy spied the balcony behind Willow. It was a good spot, she could attempt to talk to her friend from there, or at least attempt to bring her down. She hadn't intended on using physical force on Willow, but saw that she may have no choice, if she was to stop the wild abandon with which Willow was wielding her considerable power.

Glastonbury 

The boat pulled into the small inlet near the town. The water had become so shallow that one could easily have paddled in it, but still the boat had managed to keep its steady stroke. The boatman had kept quiet, hardly breathing as he rowed.

The three passengers now looked out over the town. There was a large meadow first, where the mist was dimmest, and Tara could hear a sound and saw a vehicle of some kind move across the road. She knew it was a vehicle, even though she had never seen one before, and wondered if this was a sign of her memories returning.

She looked now to the boatman as the ship stopped. "We get off now I take it?"

"Yes. Head out towards the road there and it will take you into town. Good luck, Miss. Be safe."

The three got out, trepidation evident with every step they took. Heather kept a tight hold of Tara's hand and Michelle remained close as they walked, step by slow step towards the road.

As they neared the edge of the mist, Tara could sense something, it was a feeling that she knew all too well but in this place it was alien to her. It was the feeling of familiarity. It seemed to envelope her as the mist faded. She could see the same expressions appearing on the faces of Heather and Michelle.

Now, as they took their step out of mist completely, they felt a wall of pain hit them. All three dropped as the nausea swept through them. The familiar feelings now came at them at breakneck speed, as if all information and memory was attempting to re-enter them in one go, rather than amassing in good order as it had previously.

Tara flinched and held her chest, feeling for the fraction of a second the sting of a bullet. The earth spiralled and spun around her. She could see the face of Willow, and all at once, she could feel where she was, and what she was doing, and what needed to be done.

"Willow?" Her voice was tentative, recognition dawning on her slowly as she felt the coldness of her former lover's temper and destructive urges. But now she felt deep within herself, and felt the connection they had made together re-establish itself. She felt the anger and pain and distress, could see the suffering of the Coven on the temple floor. Saw Giles and Buffy and Dawn jockeying for position to somehow stop Willow from hurting anyone else. And she saw the face of Morgana, through dark-tinted eyes, and the image of Amy Madison. She could see that Willow was out of control, and yet she could also feel Willow struggling for strength to pull her back from the brink.

Tara stood up against the swirling earth, making her footing sure. She stood straight up, balancing herself slowly as she rose. Her voice came from deep within her and released itself in strong tones and powerful resonance. And in that voice there was all her fear, all her love, all her anger and all her hope and now it spoke as one word, one demand, one plea.

"WILLOW!"

END OF CHAPTER


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter 10

_**Coven's Temple, Devon**_

Willow paused, ceasing her tirade and taking stock. She could see around her now the allies she had mowed down with her blind anger. She could see Giles lying still in one corner, unconscious near to some fallen masonry. She could see Morgana and Amy looking at her, scared but confused.

But more than anything she could feel something inside of her. She looked around once more and saw that there was no one in a position to have cast any enchantment upon her. She looked deep within herself and felt an inner warmth, a serenity that she had not felt in years. It was as if her anger was being cooled, her fears and pain were being reassured and comforted in turn. She felt calm again, no longer a prisoner of herself, but her mistress once more.

Buffy reached the top of the balcony, determined to talk her friend down, only to see Willow, hair and eyes returning to normal, float down gently to the temple floor. She smiled and exhaled a huge sigh of relief. _One less problem to worry about_, she thought.

Morgana launched a fireball at Willow, determined to destroy the woman she realised she could no longer attempt to control. She watched in vain as the fireball dissipated before it reached its target, Willow standing with a calm smile on her lips.

"Nice try, Morgana. You tried to control me. You failed. Boo Hoo, get over it!"

"I could have given you the world, Willow, now all I can give you is death. Amy, play with your old friend."

"Yes My Lady."

Amy began to chant, but almost immediately began to cough and choke, as if someone was holding her throat. She fell down, grasping at the imaginary hand.

Morgana glanced around the room and saw the Coven's circle had recovered and were now chanting in silence, and that it was their attack on Amy that had been so clinical and effective. She now attempted to launch her own attack but saw quickly that a barrier had been placed around the populace by Willow. Morgana saw that her options were now gone. There was no way for her to cast a spell and be able to escape or cause damage. She was done. She allowed herself a brief smile as she saw the Dark Man crawl out from the quicksand floor and attempt to strike, only to see his strike having no effect upon the barrier.

"Game, set and match, Morgana", smirked Buffy. "And, I have to say, this whole "destroy Avalon, kill or enslave my best friend" idea of yours, there are one or two small glitches. Mostly the one involving me."

"Drop the barrier and let My Lady leave or the boy dies!" The voice came from near the entrance of the temple. It was Claire Danvers, holding David close to her body with her right arm, and holding a long ceremonial dagger in her left. "Do it! Or I'll slit his throat right here and now!"

"Seems the game isn't quite over yet, Miss Summers. Well done, Claire. I assume that Mister Carter is no more?"

"I let him sleep permanently, My Lady. Nice of Willow here to make him easy to overcome. Rather naïve to think that I wouldn't have detected the drug in our drink. I have a higher constitution than most, Miss Rosenberg, plus enough magic to diffuse the effects of the tranquiliser. But it was a nice shot. Now allow them safe passage, or there will be one more Merrick funeral to arrange."

Buffy glanced to Althanea, and saw in her eyes a simple pleading from a woman who had lost her daughter and son-in-law and did not wish to lose her grandchild too. It was a plea that Buffy was more than happy to comply with. "Keep the shield up but allow them to cast their little portal spell. But hurt the boy or attempt to take him with you and we will close the portal with all of you trapped in limbo. And believe me, Willow and the Coven can pull that little trick off. It'll be your own little Phantom Zone." Buffy's eyes never left Morgana's as she spoke, making it plain that every word was not so much a threat, as a promise.

"We **will **meet again, Miss Summers. And next time it will be in a battleground of my choosing. As for you, Miss Rosenberg, I have no choice now but to destroy you. You could have been the greatest of all my students, now you will be the one who suffers the most by your denial."

"We'll see who's suffering come the end." Retorted Willow in defiant voice.

Amy and Morgana began to chant and within moments a portal opened, allowing them to leave. The Dark Man entered first, followed by Morgana, Amy, their other soldiers, and lastly Claire, who pulled David tight toward her all the way to the opening, before pushing him away and disappearing through the portal, which closed behind her.

Althanea ran towards her grandchild, hugging him tightly as tears fell from her eyes. "I thought I had lost you too, David. Thank the Goddess you are alive."

Buffy surveyed the scene, ensuring that no one was left. "Now that the excitement is over, Miss Harkness, you have some questions to answer. And I'm not in the mood for cryptic."

Althanea nodded and stood up. "Yes, things have progressed far quicker than expected, or at least far quicker than **I** expected. We shall go up to my office. Gabriel, there is a change of clothes in your room I believe, something a bit more formal than your jeans and t-shirt. Change and meet us there."

"Be with you all momentarily." His tone was all business now, gone was the self-deprecating humour and in its place was the calm, authoritarian inflections that belied his Watcher training.

_**Glastonbury**_

The world stopped spinning, and Tara regained her composure. She had seen a terrible sight in those few moments, a Willow she did not recognise but yet seemed all too believable. Now she looked around her and saw only the meadow, the road ahead and the town in the distance.

She looked down and noticed Michelle was now scrambling to her feet and that Heather was sitting up. Both looked dazed and yet composed. "Have your memories returned as well?" Tara asked both of her companions.

Michelle and Heather nodded. Michelle was smiling. "I know this area. My mother has a Coven not too far from here. If we can get to a phone box, I will call her. She can pick us up. We don't have much time. I understand now why they sent us away."

Tara hugged Heather, who was strangely silent. "Are you okay, little one? I told you we would be okay." Tara gave the young child a radiant smile that brought out a similar expression in her young charge.

Michelle stood up fully now. "C'mon. We will be with my Mother soon."

Coven's Temple, Devon 

Gabriel Caine entered the office of Miss Harkness washed and dressed in a dark suit and tie that made him look like a member of the cast from Reservoir Dogs. It was a better cut of dark suit though, and he looked more serious now than he had seemed during the fight or the brief meeting he had had with them in the Watcher's Headquarters.

Buffy noted all of this in her head before turning her attention back to Althanea, and the situation at hand. "So, why did you hold back on us?"

"It was necessary. We honestly didn't know who to trust and who not to. Joseph and Michelle always insisted that as few people knew as was necessary and after they were killed I strongly suspected a traitor within the Council. I felt it wise to withhold until I could ascertain the guilty party."

"And in doing so you placed us all in danger and kept vital information from us." Giles was furious and he allowed his temper to vent.

"You're more than capable of handling yourself, Mister Giles, as are Miss Summers and Miss Rosenberg. The others we knew would not be in the front line. We did under-estimate Morgana though in her speed. Should have known it was an archivist that was spying for her. I honestly thought it was Carter." Caine's voice was stern and could not hide the desire to protect the head of the Coven.

"Why didn't Joseph leave his notes here with you? Or if he trusted me enough to send David to me, didn't he leave them with me?"

"Because we would have been the target of an uncontrollable barrage from which there would be no survivors and no way to prevent her finding Avalon. You too would have been picked off if you had the information. Joseph placed it in a safe place, not even we knew where he had hidden it, although I had suspected the Council library." Caine seemed ready for the argument, his body language proclaiming that he would happily take Giles down if need be.

"I know. I came with it in the car. Joseph hid his notes in the Council Library, in the Watcher's Diaries of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce."

A thin smile graced Caine's lips. "Good old Joseph! Guess he couldn't resist the irony of it all! He knew you would find it, Mister Giles. That's why he chose you. He knew you were up to the task."

"Why not you?" Giles' could barely contain the venom in his voice.

"I was too close to Joseph and Michelle. I was too obvious and they knew it. They would have sent an attack to Masterson and been back here before anyone had a chance to figure out how to deal. No, the books had to remain in England, or at the very least Britain, for them to be of any use to us."

Buffy shot up her hand, as though she were back in school. "Hate to butt in but we can have recriminations later, let's just deal with what is. So, we assume that Claire will have heard us discussing Avalon and the Entwined in the car and may have Giles notes with her. So we have to know, right now, Where is Avalon? Who or what is this 'Entwined' and does it have anything to do with Willow? Who was the guy with the seriously hard skin and fancy swordplay? And how do we stop this gothic bitch from making Avalon a former place of beauty?"

Althanea leaned back into her seat. "Thank you, Miss Summers, for bringing this conversation round to the pertinent issues." She shot an angry look at both Giles and Caine, who both retreated to their corners. "In answer to your questions, we know that Avalon is located somewhere near Glastonbury, shrouded in mist and powerful magic, warding off people from entering the Veil that shields the Fey realm from our world. The Entwined were supposed to have been together by now, and no, we don't know who they are but we do suspect that Miss Rosenberg is one of them. We have suspected this since she came here from Sunnydale after the death of her lover, Tara. I was cautious, but Michelle was convinced."

Caine now stepped forward, clearing his throat. "The man you were referring to is Philippe Devereaux, Sword master and, more importantly, Morgana's son. He is a descendent of Mordred. We knew that she had a lotion that could be applied to armour to make it near impregnable but it seems she has perfected it so it can be applied directly to his flesh. I am sure with the Council's notes and the Coven here we will find some way to crack his shell, as it were. But his skill is natural, just the speed and strength of it that has been enhanced. Even without them he would still be a tricky opponent."

"Which only leaves us with Morgana and how do we stop her before I go all dark again and kill everyone in the room." Willow had remained silent throughout all this conversation. Her thoughts had been introspective, worrying and fearing for her safety and that of others after the episode downstairs that had caused her to lose control. The only real moments of conversation she had caught were the mention of Tara. Her name should have hurt, but Willow found only calmness where there had once been an empty hole. _Have I lost her completely by going so dark_, asked Willow to herself.

Giles crossed over to Willow and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It won't come to that, Willow. You showed Morgana that you are capable of reversing the effects. And we will ensure that the magic you face will be minimal. In fact, I plan to keep you out of this fight as much as possible, just to ensure you feel safe. I think its time the Coven became pro-active in this battle."

The buzzer of Althanea's telephone sounded. At first she ignored it, hoping it would cease, but it did not. Sighing, she answered. "Didn't I tell you no calls whilst I was in this mee….. Put her through!" Althanea's voice was now one of barely contained excitement.

Giles saw anticipation and hope on the Priestess' face and as the first muffled sounds of the voice came through the receiver, tears flooded her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

"It is so good to hear your voice! I honestly thought. Yes, she is here. Giles, Gabriel, Buffy, Dawn. Yes he is here too. He will be glad to see you. Yes, I understand. We will come and collect you straight away. So you **were **right. Yes, I think that will be the best course of action. We will be with you soon."

"Old friend?" inquired Buffy, desperate to get the conversation back on topic.

Althanea could barely hold back her smile. "Someone I have known all her life."

Caine smiled with her. "Do you mean who I think you mean?"

"Yes. And she has brought with her the answer to the riddle of the Entwined. I can't believe how obvious it was. Gabriel, remain here and help Buffy and Willow prepare for the coming battle. We may be asked to either defend Avalon or take out Morgana, possibly both. Mister Giles, we are needed in Glastonbury, right now. I will assemble the Coven to create a gateway. We must hurry, time is of the essence here."

Wyngarde Castle 

Morgana smiled. Usually her smiles meant death, by violence or sex, to someone in the castle but there was something in her smile, in her very movements, that seemed to send signals that no one was dying by her hand as a result of this news. Not yet, anyway.

"So, we attack at first light. That will give both myself and my men a chance to rest and refresh. By noon, Avalon will be obliterated and the Entwined will be powerless. Send out the word, Amy, and ensure that no one disturbs me tonight."

"Yes, My Lady."

Glastonbury 

Michelle quickly returned to the small hiding place in the back street where Tara and Heather were crouched.

"I called my mother and told her where we are. They should be here any time now."

"She lives that close?" asked Heather, sleep fighting her for control.

"No. She is the head of a powerful Coven in Devon. They are going to open a gateway, my mother will appear, probably with one or two others."

Tara looked at her companion, who was shaking back a tear. "Going to be emotional for you, isn't it?"

"Yes. She told me that my son is still alive. I thought for sure they had killed him along with my husband. But he's alive and now I can be with him again."

Tara's heart went out to Michelle. She had similar feelings with regards to Dawn, whom she saw as her surrogate daughter and hoped to see at some point. But more than that, she wanted to see Willow.

She knew now that 5 years had passed since her death. _A lot can happen in five years_, she thought, _but hopefully those years have been good to her_. But Tara knew that Willow would have moved on, and part of her was glad for that. The idea of Willow still feeling alone after all this time was not one Tara was prepared to contemplate. She just wanted to see for herself that Willow was alive and well, and happy. For all the things that Tara had ever wanted for Willow, her happiness had always been her main priority.

And that had caused the friction, she knew. She had become so concerned with Willow's happiness that she didn't speak up and speak out when it was obvious that Willow was abusing her power. So worried was she about her after the death of Buffy that she didn't voice her deep concerns about the spell to resurrect their friend, and the consequences it may have on her. So scared of hurting her after their argument and after Willow had shown such patience after Glory had stolen her sanity from her that Tara had stayed silent when she saw Willow dabble with forces and ideas that would do her harm. All to keep Willow happy.

She knew now that if she had the time to do over that she would have said something, would have challenged Willow more. Maybe if she had, then the events that led up to her death might have been altered, and they would still be together or if not, then at least Willow would have chosen her path and Tara might be with someone new. Someone who would not have raped her mind as Willow had done.

But she had forgiven Willow, just before her death. And try as she might, she could not let herself feel any anger over her lover. She still loved her as much now as she did the day she died, and that would be hardest part of all of this. Letting go of the past.

Bright light illuminated the afternoon street. Michelle looked round from their hiding place and saw two people materialise from the glowing sphere that floated some twenty feet away from where she was. She recognised both of them instantly.

"Stay here. I'll greet my mother and her companion then I'll come and get you." After seeing Tara and Heather nod, Michelle left the hiding spot, and entered the street.

It took the briefest of seconds for Althanea and Michelle to meet and embrace. Both shed tears as if they were afraid that they would never cry again. Through the tears, they could not help but smile.

"I still can't quite believe it. But right now I don't want to think about it, I am just so glad you're alive." Althanea could barely contain her joy.

Michelle pulled away gently from her mother. "I'm here, but not alone. Two others came out with me. One of them is a child, the other in her early twenties. Mister Giles, I think you may recognise the older one."

Tara's eyes lit up. Surely it couldn't be the same one!

"Well, I look forward to meeting this young lady then. We do have a great many questions, Michelle, and it seems that you may be the link we need."

It was Giles, and as the realisation dawned panic set into her heart. Tara's mind focused on one thought and one alone – If he was here, was Willow?

"Heather! Tara! It's time to go!"

Giles eyes widened at the name. As the two emerged, recognition smiled across his features. In that moment, all the horrors he had witnessed in the previous few days seemed to vanish as he stared at her. He had taught himself long ago to hide his emotions, not to be a victim of them. But in this hour, in this place, he allowed his sorrow, his happiness, his relief, to overwhelm him as he embraced his adopted daughter.

Tara too was caught up in the emotion of the moment. It was a happy reunion and one she was thankful for. Now she composed herself, and felt Giles do likewise as he felt the scrutinizing eyes around him. "I guess you m-missed me then?"

"We all did. Some of us still do." Answered Giles, trying to be as composed as his emotions would allow.

"Is everyone, you know, okay? Dawn? Buffy? Xander? W-Willow?"

"Well, everyone bar Xander is back at the Coven. I think we need to talk though. There are things you need to know before you see them all."

"Is everything all right though?"

"Yes, in the main. Buffy dealt with your death quite well, under the circumstances. Dawn took your death very badly. So soon after the death of her mother and Buffy, to lose you as well was tough on her. But she has gotten through it and just a few days ago became a fully qualified Watcher."

Tara smiled from ear to ear. "I always knew she would be someone special. How does Buffy feel, having a younger sister who can boss her around?"

"Dawn will have her own Slayer to deal with."

"What do you mean?"

"A lot has happened. Some of it can wait but some is necessary to know before you see."

"Willow. What happened?"

"Althanea, Michelle. I am going to need a few minutes before we go."

"Time is short, Mister Giles. We must get my daughter and Tara and this young girl back before the breach is discovered."

"I know. Please. Ten minutes."

"Very well."

Althanea watched Giles and Tara head off to the side of the street, some fifteen feet away from where she stood. She saw Giles talking with a stern look upon his face, and saw glimpses of horror, shock, tears and pride fill Tara's features in a kaleidoscope of emotions. She had a fairly good idea of what was being discussed and that Tara was now learning of what happened after her death, and more importantly, Willow's part in the events.

But what she saw now in Tara's eyes was the faintest hint of jealousy, and then apprehension, and then calm acceptance. Althanea was impressed. She had seen this woman mentally and emotionally digest the downfall of her lover, and the possible news that she had been with another since her death, and now seemed to be resolved, as if the actions needed had been calculated down to the last detail. If she truly was the Entwined, then they had a truly wise ally.

Giles and Tara returned to the group, Tara hugging a nervous Heather as she spoke. "Let's go! There are a lot of questions for me to ask and get answers to, I think. First thing is Willow. Then we have a talk about what happened in Avalon."

_**Coven's Temple, Devon**_

"Yes, I understand Giles. I will. We'll be waiting. I hope this lead of yours is something though cos I don't think this place could survive another visit by Morgana."

Buffy placed the phone down. Giles had been very specific about his instructions to her: To ensure that everyone was in Althanea's office and that no one was to leave it until he arrived. He had told her that the other half of the Entwined was with him, he believed, and that Willow must not know in advance. Giles was unsure if Willow would be able to handle the situation, and may run.

So now Buffy shepherded Willow, Dawn, Gabriel and herself into Miss Harkness Office, awaiting Giles arrival, nervous of what reaction people would have. She wished she knew why Giles had been so secretive, so demanding. Not since her first days under his tutelage in Sunnydale had he been this demanding of her. But she recognised the necessity of his instructions in his voice, and obeyed them to the letter.

It had been a long time since she had been on active Slayer duty, rather than just training them and helping out in a crisis. Although she had finally found a peaceful balance between her life as a Slayer and her wish to be a regular woman since the Potentials all inherited their full Slayer power, she had missed the excitement of being fully involved. Buffy hadn't realised just how much she had missed it until now, but she wouldn't change things for the world. She was happy now with the choice.

Willow sat in the corner of the room, her mind whirling with the events of the past few days. She felt weak, and knew that without sleep soon she would be of no use to the group. But the call had come as she had considered retiring so now she sat, half-asleep and unsure as to how long she would be able to stay awake.

Gabriel sat in the corner, near to Althanea's desk, pensively. He was aware that Michelle had returned but his thoughts were a mixture of sadness and joy, or as much joy as he could muster. He was sad that she would come here rather than be reunited with Joseph in some dimension somewhere, but content that she was alive, and that her spirit had at least travelled to a peaceful place. This made him feel guilt now, guilt and sorrow for Joseph. That was not a conversation he was looking forward to having with her. He tapped a pen on his lap, tension building within him.

Dawn decided to sit behind Althanea's desk. Although now in her early twenties, she still had that small spark of child in her that wanted to rebel. She had often wondered if that was because she was only technically about seven, and that for all the good work the monks had done with building her memories and emotions, along with her friends and family, at some primal level they didn't quite compensate for the passing of natural time. So that somewhere deep within her lurked a young girl of about seven or eight years old.

They could hear footsteps in the hall. Three sets of footfalls, they each guessed, without a syllable of speech passing between the walkers. It was a silent procession towards the door, but a procession with purpose. The strides were long and exact, the stride of people with a task at hand, a task that would not be shunned. The room's occupants shifted their body weight and poise, all now looking bright and alert and attentive. All save Willow, who was still attempting to fight off sleep, but she did her best to straighten up.

Giles entered the room, followed by Althanea and a third woman who, whilst unknown to Buffy and Dawn, was instantly recognised by Willow and Gabriel.

Michelle hugged her old friend. "Hi Gabe. It's good to see you again."

"Not as good as it is to see you. You always said there was a chance for you, albeit a slim one. I just didn't want to believe, I didn't want to hope." Gabe's voice almost cracked under the strain of emotion, but he took a deep breath and composed himself.

Michelle eyed Willow and smiled a warm greeting, before turning back to Gabriel. "Is everything ready in Masterson?"

"Yes. Dash and I made a few phone calls, pulled in a favour or two and got employment for them that I think will suit their talents. Were your right about the Entwined?"

"I was, but there are complications. The union may not be as immediate or as assured as we thought."

"What do you mean, complications? Is she alright?" Gabe's voice was a mixture of genuine concern and barely contained frustration.

"Yes, but she is insisting on time alone to talk to the other half. She has demanded it, or no deal."

Giles interceded. "She is fairly adamant. And I think after all the run around you people have given us over this affair, her request is not only the least you can do, it is rather essential."

"It is. Everything we believed in, everything that Joseph and I fought and died for, is on the line. I know we need action and soon, Mother, but they need time first." Michelle was determined to ensure that the Watcher did not try and control the conversation here. This was not Council business as far as Michelle was concerned. They were here as necessary allies, not as commanders.

Giles motioned to Willow, leading her out of the room. He spoke to her, his voice fatherly in tone. "You were right. It is you that the prophecy spoke about. I have met the other one now, this fey, the source of the eclipse that you are meant to "entwine" with. And having met her, the prophecy's wording makes complete sense now. She is waiting in your room to meet you. I wanted you to meet her alone because I am sure you will have a lot to talk about. Actually, as you heard, she has insisted on it."

"At least it is a she. What is she like?" Willow couldn't hide the apprehension, the terror in her voice.

"I have a feeling you will like her. But you have a lot to talk about. It will be hard for you, Willow, but I think that afterwards, you may start to find yourself again, no matter how the conversation turns by the end."

"I don't know, Giles. This is all happening all too fast. I mean, what if I don't like this Fey woman. What if she doesn't do it for me. How are we supposed to be "entwined" if my heart isn't in it?"

"Believe me, she shares your concerns, that is why she wanted to talk to you alone, before any decision is made about your future. Willow, she asked me about what had happened to you recently. She had a vision of some kind about you. She demanded I tell her everything that happened since you were "bathed in dark power", to quote the prophecy. I left nothing out, she wouldn't allow me too. I think more than anything, she has questions about some of your actions."

Willow felt faint, steadying herself against the wall of the corridor that they had walked down. She could see the door of the room that had been laid out for her, and she felt the apprehension and fear rise within her. She breathed slowly, trying to stop the world from spinning around her. Exhaling a final deep breath, Willow made the last few steps to the door.

She turned to Giles with a weak attempt at a brave smile. "Here goes. Wish me luck."

Willow opened the door and saw the woman sitting on the edge of her bed. She wore the same robe as Michelle but it was merely a glimpsing detail. Willow's heart pounded like never before, terror spiking her soul as she stared at the vision of a long forgotten dream.

She knew every curve, every line, every inch of the woman in front of her. The eyes and hair and sympathetic gaze that greeted her were treasures so precious that she had never dared to dream of seeing them again. But here they were, and they were real. Not a picture, not an illusion nor a glamour, but flesh and blood.

Willow gasped for air, her chest tightening under the strain. Her mind filled immediately with a million memories of joy and sorrow. Giles' words about telling her everything now echoed in Willow's ears and she saw visions of all the violence, all the pain she had caused out of her grief-stricken rampage. Her head could take no more, her senses overloaded as a concoction of emotions barraged her, each jockeying for pole position.

Giles caught Willow as she fainted. He knew that seeing Tara would be a shock, though he hadn't quite counted on this.

Tara rushed to her lover's side, aiding Giles in putting her on the bed.

"I'll leave you two to it then. Tara, whatever happens, I am glad to have you back."

"I'm glad to be back." Tara's reply was heartfelt but Giles saw that her attention was firmly fixed on Willow. She already had a bowl of cold water on the bedside cabinet and was mopping Willow's brow with it.

Giles left. He was worried for Willow. Worried for Tara. But he had done what was necessary. The rest, he knew, was up to them now.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter 11

Coven's Temple, Devon 

Tara watched over her former lover, dabbing Willow's face with a damp cloth to wipe the beads of perspiration from her brow. The shock had been too much, Tara knew, but it had been necessary. _Better to see her here, _she thought to herself_, than to meet in front of everyone._

Tara saw Willow move, ever so slightly, and knew that she would regain consciousness soon. She had no idea what she would say to the redhead, or how to ask the questions that needed to be asked. But she knew that for any resolution to happen, the questions and doubts had to be addressed, here and now. A lot of people had gone to a great deal of trouble to bring them both together once more, and she knew that those people were hopeful of a reunion and a return to what once was. But Tara was hesitant, there was too much to work through, and without some headway, some sign that they could see eye to eye, she would not pretend, no matter how great the need.

Willow slowly opened her eyes, feeling the gentle dabs of a cold cloth on her forehead. Her mind was muddled, and for the briefest of moments, she imagined that the vision she had seen in her room had been just that, an illusion borne out of her melancholy and exhaustion. But as her vision cleared, she saw that in front of her sat Tara, dabbing her brow. This was no illusion, and Willow's eyes soon misted up with tears. She reacted on instinct, embracing Tara and holding her tight against her.

"Is it really you? I've missed you so much!" Willow managed to get the words out in between her sobs. She could feel Tara's arms around her, but the embrace was one of comfort, not of passion. Willow looked at her lover, and saw compassion, warmth, but an unmistakeable distance in her eyes. Willow sat herself back, letting go of Tara as she did so. _I don't have the right, not yet, _her inner voice whispered.

Tara did her best to smile, but she couldn't hide the tension. "It's me, Willow." She ran her fingers over Willow's face, wiping the tears from her eyes and cheeks.

"But how? Did they use some sort of spell? How did they get you here?"

"The Fey can't die a natural death. If we die through non-magical means, then our spirits don't go to any heavenly or hellish dimension, but to the land of the Fey. There the body heals. But until I came back out of there I had no memory of my past, other than my name."

"So you are one of the Fey?"

"I didn't know I was, not until after I died. That sounds kind of silly, saying "after I died" when I'm right here."

"Didn't they tell you anything?"

"Nothing. They said that it was better for the balance of my emotions that I didn't know. But something kept eating in at me. At the same time every week, in the twilight hours before dark, I would feel this ache in my heart. There was a gazebo at the bottom of the garden, I always felt safe there. Something made it safe. Wasn't until just now I realised what it was. A willow tree hung over it. I was at times quite literally spread beneath it, lying down and asleep. Maybe it was the symbolism that drew me there instinctively." Tara smiled at the internal joke, a reminder of the song she sang to Willow when Sunnydale had been possessed by a demon that forced the inhabitants to sing and dance.

"You missed me then?" Willow's voice was full of hope, full of every wish.

"Not in a conscious way. I didn't remember you, or me. I just felt this pain, a longing. I think my soul missed you." Tara tried her best not to sound cold, but matter of fact. She could tell from Willow's expression that it hadn't quite succeeded.

"So did mine. It always missed you. But I guess I had the memories to deal with too." Willow's voice was full of anguish. She hadn't been remembered, and that stung, even though she understood the explanation. Right now, her head and heart were siphoning different parts of the conversation and were reaching different conclusions.

"If I had remembered, I would have missed you. But part of me missed you, missed the part of you that was here." Tara placed her hand lightly over her chest, pointing to where her heart was, underneath.

"Does it still miss me?" Willow's words were spoken with hesitation, scared to hear the answer but even more terrified of not hearing it.

"Yes." Tara answered once more in a matter of fact manner.

Willow didn't want to seem too eager, so she changed tack, putting her mind back on the situation outside. "So are you **back** back, or just back to help with this Morgana situation?" Willow couldn't hide the inner begging in her voice, the hope that having found her again, she would not lose the blonde once more.

"I-I'm not sure. That's gonna depend on a few things. Giles told me what happened after I was…."

"Murdered. How much did he tell you?" Willow felt vulnerable; suddenly scared that her past would break the spell of joy she was under.

"He told me you hunted down Warren, that you tortured him, skinned him and burned him, using magic to do it all. Then you tried to kill his two accomplices, almost killing Dawn and all your friends in the process. And then you tried to destroy the world, and would have succeeded if Giles and Xander hadn't stopped you. Did I miss anything out?"

Willow smiled nervously. "No, that's pretty much it. That's what I did. I tried to bring you back. We had just gotten back together and then you were taken from me. I tried to get you back but I couldn't and you were everything to me and I couldn't get you back." Willow could not hold back her tears anymore. All her rage and guilt revealed itself in her tears, causing her to hide her face away from her former lover's gaze.

Tara's heart broke as she watched Willow. She wanted to comfort her, to tell her everything was okay, but she felt now, more than ever, that she needed to speak her mind, and then comfort her lover. "When I went back to you, that night, I told you we had a lot to work through. I never thought for a moment you would have slipped so easily back into using such dark and potent magics. If I had known, I wouldn't have come back to you so soon."

"I would have stopped. I had stopped, but then you were gone and I couldn't cope."

"Will, I came back to you because you showed you could cope without any safety net. I was so proud of you."

"And now?"

"Now I don't know what to think. Will, being upset that I died is one thing. Wanting to find this guy, that I can understand. Wanting some semblance of justice, yes, I understand that too. But what you did, torturing him, skinning him alive, burning him. There is no excuse, no reason for that, Will. That wasn't justice, that wasn't grief that was cruel, selfish vengeance. I saw it in you, that darkness. It was why I left. I thought you were over it, now I wonder if you ever will be."

"But I am over it, mostly. After Xander stopped me on the bluff, Giles brought me here to the Coven. Althanea and the rest of the Order helped me regain my focus. It took a long time, and I'm mostly better." Willow felt like the accused on trial and she was determined to defend her case, if only to show that she was a better person than she had been then.

"It's the mostly that scares me, Will. You weren't that far under the influence of dark magics when you raped my mind, remember?"

"I was a different person then. I was so insecure, so afraid of losing you that I tried to stop you from hating me. I didn't want you to go."

"And yet, you forced me to. After everything Glory did, and you did it out of fear. She was just evil, you should have known better."

"I know. And if I hadn't been so afraid of losing you at that time I would have been a whole different person. You wouldn't have left me, we wouldn't have had that reunion. You wouldn't have been at that window when Warren arrived. You died, and I was the reason."

"Warren was the reason, not you." Tara placed her hand on top of Willow's to reassure her. "We both have our "I wish I had done things differently" wish list. I wish I had spoken up more about your abuse of magic. But you were grieving over Joyce and then we had that argument that led to Glory snacking on my sanity. Then Buffy died and rather than deal with the problems then I decided to remain quiet for the sake of harmony in the home. If I had spoken out then, maybe you wouldn't have fallen so far."

"I don't think I would have listened. I was so obsessed with all the power cos it made me feel special. I was useful to Buffy because of it. I met you because of it. Without the magic, I was nobody."

"You were never a nobody, Will. You were the woman I loved, and that had nothing to do with your magic. Well, not the sorcery kind anyway." Tara gave Willow a flash of her wicked sideways grin that Willow only saw when her mind had thought of something less than wholesome. "Buffy didn't see you as a nobody either. You were a help to her long before you got interested in magic. Giles respected you as an equal and Xander was your best friend. You were your own worst enemy, Will. The only person who saw yourself as nobody was you." Tara's words were angry, but came from an honest place of caring about Willow and she knew that the truth, however painful, needed to be said.

"I wish I had listened to everyone. There is so much of the past I wish I could have done differently." Willow said, almost in defeat.

"The thing about past mistakes Will, is that if you change one you may set yourself on a different path. We may never have met. I might have died thanks to some vampire or demon and become just another Sunnydale statistic. Everything we have done has brought us to this point. I just wish it had been by a less destructive path. But we always get a chance to make amends, Will. You just have to be prepared to take it."

"I almost destroyed the world, so I think I maxed out the destructive quota. And I think I missed my boat on chances."

"We never miss the boat, Will. We just have to wait for the next one."

"Will we make amends?"

"I don't doubt that we will be friends, Will. But as for something more, only time will tell. I don't think I can honestly give you a "yes" or "no" right here and now. I know what my heart wants, but my head is exercising caution and right now, my head is winning."

"At least it wasn't a straight "no". Guess I should be happy for that. I dreamt of this day for five years, Tara. I had everything I was going to say, all the apologies I was going to make. But Giles has told you everything, which has taken the wind out of my sails and now you're not sure if you want to be with me. I had a different ending to this dream." The tears flowed once more down Willow's cheeks.

Tara looked at her. Willow looked defeated, despondent and in despair. "Will, I want the story to happen the way you do. But I need to know it can. I don't want to be hurt again, and I don't want you to be hurt either. We need time, Willow." Tara placed her hand on Willow's once more, squeezing it gently before leaning over and embracing her love. She could feel Willow shake as the tears fell more freely now, as if released by her touch.

Willow did her best to compose herself, trying to fix her mind on the business at hand, knowing that if she dwelled too much on her pain, it would consume her. "Time doesn't seem to be on our side. The women of the Coven seem to think you coming back and being with me is like the Second Coming."

"Yeah, I got that impression too. Not sure I like that. I'm still me, when all is said and done, not some saviour. And if we are to be an item again, it has to be because we both want it, not because other people need it. I'm not going to be in an arranged marriage, even if my bride is you." Tara beamed a smile at Willow, trying to lighten the tone. She could see it hadn't worked.

"So what do we tell the people in there? I have a feeling that "Sorry, you'll have to wait" isn't going to sit with them."

"We have to take it one step at a time, Willow. First we should see what can be done about Morgana, and then we can deal with their prophecy and us. If we can be given time, maybe we could be who they want us to be. But that time is what we need, or we may risk their prophecy as well as each other getting hurt again. I couldn't bear to hurt you again, not if there is really no chance of reconciliation."

"But at least you haven't said "no", that's something for me to cling to."

"Give me time, Will. That's all I ask. I know it's going to be difficult, especially with everything that is going on, but I need the time. I make you one promise though. I won't mislead you."

Willow lowered her head. She felt defeated, reality cutting into her dream reunion with a stark blade. It hurt, but she knew in her heart and her head that Tara had made the logical choice, the **only** real choice open to them both. She looked up at Tara, and tried her best to smile. The attempt was only a partial success, but it was greeted with a warm smile in return, a smile as much of sympathy as anything else.

Tara could see that Willow was conflicted, as she herself was. It was taking all of her strength not to hold Willow in her arms again and feel her lover against her. But she was resolved in herself that if they were to be a couple, it must be because they can, and they both had a place as lovers in each other's lives, and not because of nostalgia or regret or familiarity. It must be for love, nothing more and nothing less.

Willow knew that if she talked anymore about her feelings or the future she would only cover the same ground, and decided again to put business first. "Did Giles tell you that I am a Watcher now?"

"He mentioned it, yes. I knew you were capable, Will."

"Dawn just qualified as well. Hell of a baptism of fire for her. Especially after the nightmare."

"What Nightmare?" Maternal concern over-rode every emotion in Tara.

"Morgana wanted to control me so she sent a spy, another Watcher, to place some crystal shard under my pillow to start to brainwash me. But they placed it under Dawn's pillow first by mistake. She dreamt of a dove in a field, being attacked by ravens and then she was attacked. Tara she could feel their beaks and claws."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, as much as can be expected. She was pretty shaken though. But before we could properly deal with it the spy switched the shard under my pillow and I had the same dream. Except, the dove had your eyes, your voice. When the ravens attacked, I could hear your screams. I got angry and I, I…"

"You went dark again, didn't you?"

Willow nodded, scared to look at Tara as she realised her confession would add extra strain to their reconciliation. "Yes. The dream allowed Morgana to grasp at the darkest part of me. I felt it consume me but I fought it back. Then she launched an attack on Giles' house and I went dark again. I saw the ravens and all I could hear was your scream."

"So Morgana used our relationship to make you use dark power again? Then maybe it isn't safe for either of us to be close." Tara could not hide the tinge of fear in her voice and knew that Willow had heard it too.

Willow leaned forward, placing her hand on Tara's in an attempt to re-assure her. "No, see. She attacked here, just before Michelle called. And I went dark, but I suddenly stopped. I felt this warmth in me, a part of me filling up and I just felt safe. I realise why now. It was you. I must have felt you when you came back. Tara, I went back to normal the moment I felt you."

"I could feel you when I crossed back over here. I saw you, in the room, dark and angry. I cried out to you, I must have gotten through to you." Tara felt relieved that in some small way, she had made a difference, a positive one.

"So you see, Morgana doesn't have any control over me with you around. You protected me, like you always did."

"I always will, Willow, no matter what the future holds for us."

"So, what do we tell Giles and the others?"

"First we explain our situation, then we deal with Morgana, then we get on with our lives, and see if that will be together or not."

"Sounds reasonable to me, although I have a feeling that Althanea and the Coven won't be too impressed."

"They will just have to accept it." Tara's voice was assured and strong. There was no trace of the meek and mild young woman with the stutter that had been before. She was confident and determined, as if her re-birth had been fully literal, taking away the flaws that her upbringing had bestowed in her and allowing her true self, the one that had been hidden by the insecurities and domestic abuse, to shine through.

Willow looked at this woman in front of her, and smiled. She liked Tara this way. She was strong, confident, determined and unflinching. But even in her resolution she could not hide the inner warmth and serenity that had drawn her to her lover so many years ago. Willow's mind floated briefly back to a time before Tara's death, to a time where being together was the definition of bliss. Secretly, she prayed that such a time would come again, and resolved herself to allowing the time for it to happen. She would not attempt to manipulate Tara or force her into a decision on this. If Tara wanted time, time she would have.

Silence descended on both of them. It was awkward, neither knowing what to say next. All circumstances and positions seemed to have been discussed and accounted for. But Willow knew she had no choice, if she wanted a fresh start, there was one more strand of her life to consider, and that was Kennedy.

"What did Giles tell you about relationships since you died?" Willow's voice was thick with apprehension, as if the emotion itself spoke the words, rather than her.

"We don't need to talk about that right now. You were grieving, lonely, and in need of solace. I was gone. Don't feel guilty in trying to find comfort in another. I would never want that, for you to be some lonely old spinster, clinging to the past."

"So you are okay with it then?"

"As far as I know, you are single now. Free to make your own choice. You broke up with her for your own reasons. The past is the past, Will. It won't effect my decision. Although if I ever met this Kennedy I might be less inclined to be so calm, but that is just a possessive thing." Tara smiled her warm, lopsided grin at Willow once more. The tenderness was still there, the love. She held back every instinct to touch Willow. It was not the time, she thought. There was too much at stake for emotions to over-ride her senses.

"We broke up because I couldn't get over you. She could feel it. I tried to move on, but you were still with me, or maybe because a part of me died with you, I couldn't feel enough for another person anymore. But it began to strain things between us, the emotional baggage. Eventually it became bitter. So when you were with the Fey, did you meet anyone?" Willow tried not to sound jealous or needy. She did not succeed.

"No. Not saying it wasn't lonely, or that I didn't have any feelings for anyone. But it never felt right, somehow. Not in a disgusting way cos Goddess knows there were plenty of lesbians in the Order but I couldn't connect and as much as I had needs, I didn't want sex. I wanted to make love and I couldn't love anyone. Plus, mothering is a full-time job and that kept me occupied and too exhausted for much else."

"Willow couldn't hide her shock. "Motherhood? Like a baby?"

"Not mine, no, and not a baby, although she acts like it sometimes. Her name is Heather. She died when she was ten years old and came to us about three years ago. I don't know why or how but we bonded. She was unruly and yet with me she always did what she was told. After a while the other members of the Order just left her discipline and care to me because they had given up. I didn't mind, she is a lovely girl. I am sure you will like her."

"She came through with you?"

"Yes. I promised her I wouldn't leave her, Willow, and I won't. Consider me a package deal. If we do get back together, it will be with a daughter to raise. I know that is pressure on you, but I won't abandon her. So I hope you two get on, because part of us getting together, if we do, is going to depend on that."

"Must admit, I wasn't quite thinking wedding and children so quickly but if we bond and I feel ready, I will tell you."

"Promise me one thing, Will. That you will tell me what you really feel, not what you hope I want to hear."

"I promise, Tara."

Tara stood up and held out her hand to Willow. "I think we should go and tell them our decision. We should start setting our plans in motion. Morgana won't wait. I have a feeling that Lady Nimue knew that."

Willow took her former lover's hand, and felt the electricity of passion spark between them. She looked in Tara's eyes, and smiled. There was strength behind the Blonde's eyes, but also a warmth and a peace that Willow knew she could lose herself in for all eternity and be content.

The two of them, hand in hand, fingers entwined, opened the bedroom door, and walked down the hallway towards Althanea's office. Willow took the lead, feeling the stability from Tara's aura that had been missing in her for so long. They reached the door in moments, as if the spark between them had hastened their steps. Willow opened the door, leading Tara inside, both of them smiling.


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

_**Avalon**_

Avalon had once been a place of serenity, where the placid nature of the Order that resided there was paramount. Like a convent, the acolytes of the Entwined had gone around their daily tasks with dutiful silence, save for the odd friendly conversation and the small, shrill sounds of young Heather racing through the corridors.

But now the whole of the Order were as one in their motion. They were packing, their job done and their place assured in the main city. Many were sad to be leaving the tranquil home where they had spent so many years awaiting the coming of the Eclipsing One. But mostly the talk was of what they would do now. The conversations were full of joy, hope and excitement. The feeling was tangible throughout the halls and corridors of the buildings, and amongst the inhabitants.

Lady Nimue could feel it. Perhaps more than anyone, she felt a relief and an apprehension unlike any of the others. She had been one of the few who knew the true purpose of Avalon, and had patiently waited for the time when her burden could be lifted and she could finally rest. The burden had been heavy, and she was approaching the lifting of the burden with satisfaction.

But still there was a fear. The ravens that had escaped across the veil had no doubt informed Morgana of Avalon's location. Nimue knew that her gamble was now at its critical stage. Would the Entwined set the prophecy in motion in time to stop Morgana taking the power of Avalon? Or had all the planning and waiting and worrying been for nought?

She shook her head. _No_, she decided, _there would be no failure_. She had faith in Tara. Since the day Tara had arrived Nimue had been sure of her place in the greater scheme, that she was one half of the Entwined. She had called her Council and informed them of the fact and there had been the exhaustive round of discussions about what this meant for Avalon. Many feared the end of Avalon, and wished to keep the power within the buildings where they felt it belonged. The dissenters had been asked to leave, something Nimue now feared had been an error of judgement. She could not shake one thought from her head: _What if one of the dissenters had betrayed them?_

She knew precious little of the other half of the Entwined. She had had meetings, both on the Astral Plane and face to face, with Althanea Harkness and had seen the progress of Willow's recovery but she knew very little about the person within. She now needed to trust to her faith, and to Tara, to save Avalon. It was a gamble but Nimue was aware that in a high stakes game there was no such thing as an easy solution.

As she stood in front of her bedroom window she looked out at the grounds below and saw and heard the enthusiastic chattering and bustling of the Coven members packing and talking. They were too far away for the precise words to be heard but the sound was one of nervous joy, and that pleased her. The upheaval was necessary. Soon the soldiers would come in and fortify this place for the last days.

The first soldiers had already started to arrive. All of them armed and armoured. Warriors and Sorcerers were massing, and although she could not hear their words, she could see from their gesturing that they were discussing strategy. It seemed a sad irony to Nimue that this place of peace, of sanctity and hope to the world, would spend its last moments prepared for, and immersed in, bloody violence and nightmarish death. It was a sad epitaph for this place but Nimue was well aware of its necessity, but it didn't help the sombre note it rang in her conscience.

She looked across the horizon, deciding to drink in one last time the view that she had from her window. It was a beautiful landscape of mountains and rivers and forests that could have been the inspiration for a myriad of landscapes, both real and imagined, for artists over the centuries. It had been a view that had, in her darkest moments of doubt, had reminded her of the beauty, kindness and love the spirit was capable of, both Fey and Human.

But now she looked upon the horizon with rising terror. She could see coming all too clearly and quickly a dark cloud. She looked down once more at her Coven and saw them running, fearful at the sight. Nimue saw the soldiers and sorcerers ready themselves.

_No_, was the the first word to ring in Nimue's head. _Not this soon, not before the Entwined have had a chance to act_. Nimue voiced a silent prayer, asking for one thing: for the Entwined to bond. Avalon needed them, and needed them now.

Coven's Temple, Devon 

Buffy stared blankly at Tara. The idea that she was alive and well, and here in front of her, hadn't travelled through the cognitive pathways of her brain fully and she stood motionless, as the slow train to dawning realisation pulled into the station of joyous acceptance.

But whereas Buffy was in shock, Dawn was delirious with joy. Tears had flooded down her cheek when she had embraced Tara, mixing with the blonde's own tears of happiness at being reunited with her surrogate daughter. Dawn had missed her, more than she had realised, and she could not contain her joy.

Willow too, had her own reunion. She embraced Michelle, and thanked the Goddess for her safe return. Tara also embraced Michelle, and Althanea, and this time thanked them for their help with Willow and her addiction. It was a joyous time, those brief and precious moments, and all those within the office savoured them.

But now the reunions were over, and the shadow of the realities of the situation loomed over the assembled group. Professionalism trumped all other thoughts and feelings. All conversation topics, save for the business of Morgana and Avalon, were now out of bounds.

"So, Willow and Tara, you now realise your importance to this world, and to all of us." Althanea knew that there were going to be difficult questions now.

"It would have been much easier if you had perhaps told someone about it". Giles, mind now focused on the task and swallowing back his pride at the reunion he had witnessed, could no longer hide his anger.

"We couldn't." Answered Michelle. "At first, we only had guesswork, and a few possible locations, to start with. That led us to several possible candidates. Like Potentials, Giles, we needed to wait to see who was called. And like the calling of Slayers, it took a death to make it happen."

"You could have come to the Watchers Council. We would have aided you."

"What Council? There had been several attempts on my husband's life, and more on his forefathers, to prove that telling anyone other than a few key necessary people would endanger everything. Then the Council was destroyed and, much to our dismay, when it was re-built, the same old problems arose. The Enemy will stop at nothing to destroy the Entwined before the bonding. You must understand, Mister Giles, that unlike a Slayer, the Entwined are a one-off. There is no second chance, no possibility of another Entwined coming years later. If the Entwined were identified and killed before the prophecy came to be there would be no prophecy. The Nightmare Court would control the power of Avalon and the strength that would give them would consolidate their power in the New World and place all of us in darkness. We have no lucky dip as Slayers and Watchers do, we have one shot and one only. Under these circumstances, we couldn't risk telling anyone."

"Surely you could have trusted someone at the Council."

"Joseph was very close to telling you, Mister Giles. But when we realised that Willow could be the dark one of the Entwined we knew, however professionally you acted or how guarded you were with the information, that you would act differently around Willow, as any father would with news that their daughter had been targeted. I know you look upon the Slayer and her friends as your children, at least sub-consciously, and we knew that one slip could be read by the agents of the Enemy and used to kill Willow and all who would try and protect her. They are relentless, Giles, and they would not stop, no matter how many Slayers you sent after them because they could use dreams and magic and dark arts you wouldn't be prepared for to kill her. It was safer for Willow, and for all of you, that she did not know." Michelle was visibly shaking, as she remembered her dead husband.

"So why was I never told?" Asked Tara.

"That decision was agonised over but Nimue feared that Avalon had within its walls its own spies. She was afraid that news of your arrival would be given to the Enemy and that you would be attacked. And, as it happens, she was right. The attack on Heather was unfortunate, but it did prove to us that the Enemy had people within, or its allies at least. Nimue knew she had to get you out before Morgana's forces took advantage. By placing the blame on Heather, it gave Nimue an excuse to send you out of the Veil without arousing suspicion. You questioned her decision to remove Heather, but it was done to both ensure you would leave but also to protect the girl. You see once Morgan knows the location of Avalon she will attack and kill all who lie within. Heather being here saved her from that and Nimue knew it."

"How long have you known who I was?"

"My memory loss was brief. I regained my full memories overnight. The rest was done covertly, I am afraid I had to play along with the charade of the frightened new arrival. Truth is I have visited Avalon several times, as has my mother, my late husband, and Gabriel here." Michelle motioned to the man standing behind Althanea, a passive look in his eyes hiding some darker thought.

"And that, more than anything, angers me." Snapped Giles, barely controlling his rage. "You can't trust me, even though both Willow and Tara were in my care and yet you can trust this, this psychopath!"

"I earned that trust, Mister Giles. Just as you did when Joseph asked for you to be contacted when he was murdered. Look you don't like me because of my past and I can live with that. But you're not entirely without dark roots in your past so let's not play the blame game, eh? Right now there are more important things going on than the egos of two trained Watchers so I suggest we deal with this crisis and then, if you still insist, we can debate my past and yours in any way you see fit." Gabriel glared coldly at the older Watcher, knowing that he had the moral advantage, regardless of Giles' feelings about him. He liked that position, to be one up on the Council.

Buffy stood up. She had sat down to listen to the explanations, to take it all in. But she could feel the rising tension between her Watcher and the young man at Althanea's side. "All right, enough! Both of you! I don't know the what or who or how with you, Gabriel, but I do know that right now it doesn't matter. Giles, we are the guests on this one, remember? If they trust this guy, then we have to go with it. There are bigger fish to fry here."

Giles relaxed, he was always filled with pride when Buffy took charge. "Yes, very well." His voice softened, he cooled his temper, deciding to concentrate once more on the problem in hand.

"I think we need to say something." Willow's voice was hesitant, but she looked at once to Tara and saw calm support. "Tara and I have been talking and we really don't like this "being forced together" deal. I mean, we have a history and all that and we may rekindle it but we need to do it in our own time, if we do it at all. We can't just get back together just cos other people want us to or need us to; it has to be right for us. So we will help in any way we can with the whole Morgana problem but long-term, we have to walk our own road there, not anyone else's."

Giles viewed the faces of Althanea, Michelle and Gabriel, and smiled. _They weren't expecting this_, he mused.

Althanea was stunned. At some level, she had assumed that the reunion of the two lovers would be the stuff of romance novels and that level of thought had completely ruled out the very real and complex questions their reunion posed. But now she was forced to see that they weren't two parts of some great cosmic puzzle, but two women, former lovers reunited after five years when one had been assumed to be dead and lost to the other. She saw the reality, and nodded.

"You are right, of course. Your expertise in magic, both individually and collectively, is the most pressing aspect right now. If the prophecy holds true, then your reunion will happen when it does. If not, then the power of Avalon will be taken to a secure location and guarded until it is needed."

Gabriel nodded his head. "Well, if the Mills & Boon fanfare isn't happening anytime soon, we should consider hitting Morgana as early as possible. She will be counting on an "earth-moving" reunion, not an early strike. Now, entwined or not, you two are the best weapon we have. Morgana is pretty tough, and way beyond any direct physical assault. Our best hope lies in someone being strong enough, magically, to take her down. So far, the job looks like yours, Miss Rosenberg. No offence, Miss Maclay, but I haven't seen your strength in the field, although your reputation is well known."

"No offence taken. So is Morgana the only threat, magically?" Tara's voice was commanding, no longer the shy girl in the corner. Here and now, she had a role to play, and she had accepted it.

Giles cleared his throat. "Well, some of her followers have some magical ability but I think the Coven can handle them reasonably effectively if Morgana is stopped from influencing them. However, she has a new "pupil" for want of a better term. Amy Madison, Willow's old friend."

Tara's features grew stern at the mention of Amy's name as she turned to Willow. "I will deal with Amy. Willow is far stronger than I am and she will be best suited for dealing with Morgana. I need to discuss a few things with Amy." There was a stern inflection to her voicing of the word "discuss" that informed all those present that polite conversation was more than likely not what Tara had in mind.

Gabriel noted the tone, and continued speaking. "Now we are pretty sure that Philippe will be the main danger physically. That is where you come in, Miss Summers. David is safe here now, so you can concentrate on dealing with Philippe. From what I have heard about you and saw from you earlier, I doubt you're going turn down a re-match with him."

"Oh, you bet there is gonna be round 2 and I don't plan on letting him get to round 3. Still got to find a way of getting through his armoured skin, though. I hit him with everything I had and all it did was slow him up. He makes Glory seem easy by comparison."

"There is more at Avalon than just the source of the Entwined's power. We will go there first, ensure that the shrine that holds the source is moved to a better place and we will arm you properly to face Philippe." Althanea's words were calm but authoritative.

"What about the children?" Asked Michelle.

"They will remain here. They will be safe enough. If I am right, Morgana will be aware that the Entwined have come together and will more than likely have the location of Avalon. That will be her point of attack. David and Heather will be safe here."

"Heather is the other reason I need to see Lady Nimue again." Tara now knew Heather's banishment was possibly the greatest act of kindness Nimue had shown. If she had remained, what chance would the child have had against Morgana and her horde?

Althanea smiled at Tara. "I think Lady Nimue will give you the answers you seek, although I believe that she will only confirm what is already in your heart." She now turned to the group as a whole. "My coven will start the ritual to open the gateway to Avalon. It will take us about thirty minutes to properly prepare so it will give you time to gather what equipment you may need."

Tara turned to Willow. "We have time then. I think it's time you met Heather."

Willow smiled, and nodded.

The play area that the Coven had set aside for their children was a beautiful place to behold. It had as its central theme a large tree, denoting life, for the children to climb up and around on, or bounce around nearby on the many inflatable castles and boats that were there. The perimeter of the room was dotted with small open chests containing dolls and toys of every variety, except for guns or other items denoting weaponry. Violence was not allowed inside the coven as a rule and the children were not encouraged to fight each other, but to play.

Heather and David were trying to see who could bounce the highest, with David clearly winning and enjoying the fact far too much. Heather, rather than admit defeat, was making up for her lack of height by making each jump more athletic, adding back flips and somersaults to her jumps that made David's, for all their height, seem rather dull by comparison.

Heather completed a double somersault just as Tara and Willow entered the room. She ran to Tara, almost knocking David over en route, and embraced her.

Willow saw the bond immediately. Heather looked upon Tara as an older sister, or possibly even a mother figure. Tara had that effect on people, thought Willow, remembering the mother-daughter bond that had been formed between Tara and Dawn. She wondered if she could ever truly reach out to someone in the same way, if she could earn this young child's trust as Tara had. Willow wondered if she had a maternal instinct in her at all.

Tara looked at Willow, and saw the doubts. She smiled, knowing that Willow had been, addiction aside, a competent parent to Dawn. She looked back down at Heather, and smiled at her young charge. "Heather, there is someone I would like you to meet. This is Willow. She was the woman I was living with, before I came to Avalon."

Heather smiled at Willow. "Hi."

Willow looked at the young girl, and smiled weakly. "Hi there. See your all with the bouncing and the somersaults. Pretty cool."

Heather gently placed her right hand in Willow's left. "Don't worry. It will work out." For a moment, her face was serious, but now beamed into a warm smile. She turned her head to face Tara. "I like her. She is very nice."

Tara was relieved. There was work to be done, but the initial meeting had gone better than expected.

David had now stopped his acrobatic display and came across, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Are you two getting on okay?" Tara asked Heather, motioning towards David.

"We are. He is good fun." Replied Heather.

"Good. Listen, Willow and I are going on a little trip, just to check on a few things. We will be back in a couple of hours, I promise. Until then I want you to stay here and look after David for us."

David looked aggrieved. "I am older than she is and I know this place far better. It shall be I who will be looking after her."

Willow shook her head and smiled. _This boy comes from a family of Watchers alright_, she mused to herself. "Fair enough. Let's for the sake of argument say you are going to look after each other until we come back."

The children both nodded, accepting the compromise. Heather turned at once to Tara, hugging her close as her surrogate mother rose back onto her feet again. "You sure you're coming back?"

"I promise. You will be safe here. Willow and I will return and the first thing we will do when we get back is check on you both to see you are safe, okay?" Tara wrapped her arms around Heather tenderly, holding her close.

Willow placed her hand gently on Tara's shoulder. "We need to get ready. There's some packing to do."

Tara nodded, gave Heather one last gentle squeeze, and then let her go. "We'll be back. Just play nice till we do." Tara left the room, Willow following her. "I didn't like lying to her, Willow."

"What about?" Willow couldn't hide the concern in her voice. _This feels so much like old times_, thought Willow_, me reassuring Tara._

"Because we both know that we may not make it back. It's the kind of work we do, Will. Sometimes we don't get back to our loved ones."

Willow reached out to Tara and held her on her shoulders, looking at her soul mate straight between the eyes. "I'm not going to lose you. And you're not going to lose me. And Heather isn't going to lose either of us. I really do believe in fate, Tara, and I can't see fate bringing us back together just for us to lose each other again."

Tara looked deep into Willow's eyes, her long held feeling rising to the surface. But she held them at bay. _It would be too easy to succumb and right now there are more important things_, she said to herself. She smiled her lopsided smile that Willow had always found so sweet, so engaging, so Tara. "You won't lose me, regardless of what happens between us." Tara let her arms envelope Willow and held her tight. It had been perhaps what both had secretly yearned for, a re-establishment of the connection between them.

Willow felt safe in Tara's arms. In that briefest of moments, the world melted away and all that was left was Tara. Willow settled her head on Tara's shoulder, content in that moment to be nowhere other than where so was. A single tear dropped from her eye and touched Tara's neck.

Tara felt the tear, and knew why she was crying. It was the safety and security that Willow had been seeking for these five long and lonely years. Tara cocked her head ever so slightly enough to gently press her lips against Willow's cheek. It was a kiss that did not state passion, but comfort.

Willow slowly pulled herself away, gratitude etched on her features as she smiled at Tara. She saw the smile returned, and then a resolve resurfaced in them both as they decided enough time had been spent on small exchanges. It was time for action, and they needed to pack.

Rupert Giles, Buffy and Gabriel Caine perused the weapons cabinet in an anteroom just off the main hall in the temple. The weapons were largely medieval in design, save a few more modern items.

"The rifles and handguns and automatic weapons your idea I take it then, Gabriel?" Asked Buffy, somewhat bemused in general by any weapon post-Renaissance. She hadn't yet gotten a fix on the former Watcher. He certainly seemed a part of the team here at the Coven but Giles' didn't like him and that was usually good enough for Buffy.

"The Fey, unlike the demon underworld that you normally deal with, have for the most part embraced technoligical advances, Miss Summers. Especially as they inspired most of them."

"What do you mean inspired?" Buffy was now intrigued at the possible connotations.

"Michelle could give you the real point for point on this but the upshot is this. The Powers That Be brought to the world the concept of nobility and compassion and love and so on, qualities that are considered "good". Demons brought with them the concepts of malice, cruelty, all the traits considered "evil". The Fey brought with them the concepts of magic and imagination. Humans were unique, they brought with them the concept of being influenced by the other three. Every dream you ever had, every inspired thought that humanity has had, good or ill, was because the Fey made it possible for Humanity to see beyond logic, to grasp the unattainable and make it happen."

"But the Fey were too close to humanity, and we began to be tainted by the presence of good and evil in the world. Those who felt the pull of the Powers That Be, formed the Court of Dreams, and took a vow to look after humanity. Those who felt the call of demons, refused to accept that we could not hurt the human race, and were dubbed The Court of Nightmares. Silly I know, but the name stuck." Michelle was standing behind them all, looking more radiant for having cleaned up.

"So all those dreams that I get was really the Fey sending them to me, not the PTB's?" Asked Buffy, confused at this notion.

"No. Once the concept was out there both the PTB and the Demon representatives found a way to manipulate them, either directly or using the Fey as conduits or envoys. So the message was from them, but the Fey may have been the carrier."

"Well, that explains a lot. So when the message comes as really cryptic, that's you lot not translating well. Good to know for future reference." Buffy smiled, enjoying a brief moment of moral superiority in a situation where she felt like the outsider.

"Anyway, like Werewolves, the Fey are rather susceptible to silver." Said Gabriel, trying to get the conversation back on track again. "And magic. Anything else damages the body but not their spirit. They head back across the Veil and recover their strength. Depending on the manner of death and the strength of the individual, they can be back on this side of the Veil within hours. So, silver blades on the swords, silver tips on the arrows, bolts and bullets."

"The bullet that killed Tara, was just an ordinary bullet, that's why she crossed to the Fey. It all makes sense now. Almost the opposite of what happened to you Buffy." Giles was smiling, the full scale of realisation dawning on him.

"Hmm? What do you mean?" Asked Buffy, confusion afflicting her brain once more.

"Your death was by magical means, and they could bring you back because of that. If you had died from a bullet, your soul would have remained in a Heavenly dimension. But with Tara, if she had died as you had done, she would have been lost, because it was a death by magical means. But as it was a mundane death, a simple bullet, she didn't die in the strictest sense, that's why Willow could never contact her spirit. Fascinating!"

"Yes, that was necessary. When Tara crossed over we realised that her death may have triggered events into motion. By bringing her to Avalon we knew the ambient magic that hides it from detection would be more than enough to hide Tara from Willow. We regretted putting Willow through that pain, but we needed to protect them both. As cruel as it was, we may have saved both their lives by doing so. The Enemy would doubtless have had spies out for them both if they had even the slightest inkling."

"Yes, I am beginning to realise the high stakes you were playing with."

Buffy saw Gabriel grab an ornately crafted Sabre from the shelf and slide it neatly into the scabbard on his left hand side. "Pretty fancy looking for a sword? Don't tell me you accessorise?"

"Hardly. I do have an ornate silver sword but this one has runes on it designed specifically to imbue the blade with a magical ambience. In essence, it is an enchanted sword. Not as powerful as some I've seen wielded, but it kills Fey just as dead."

"You got one of those for me?" Buffy liked swords. They weren't random and unpredictable like handguns, such as the one she saw Gabriel place in a shoulder holster, but were steady weapons that she could put her full strength behind.

"One silver sword, as previously mentioned. I had to choose, figured you would want one that was good looking. With Silver, you really want the head or the heart, don't give them time to die of natural causes."

The sword was a sabre of similar style to the runed one that Gabriel was wearing. Buffy felt the weight of the sword in her hand. It was perfectly balanced. She was used to oriental or medieval weaponry and had never really held a sword from the 19th century before, but she found the movement of the blade and pommel to be good enough for her. "So, why a sabre? Why not a claymore or something more Scottish?"

"I hate stereotypes. Besides, a sabre is a hell of a duelling weapon and the Fey are real traditionalists when it comes to duels. Make no mistake, if the Fey attack and they have a sword, they're playing for keeps, and in the Fey world, "keeps" is whatever drops your opponent."

Althanea arrived at the doorway, with Willow and Tara in tow, viewing the battle ready. Her face was almost ashen. "We are ready. The portal is about to be opened. We have scryed ahead, and we may be too late. Avalon has fallen. All we can hope for is that the power has not be taken."

"Then let's not waste time chatting." Buffy's voice was full of command. It was a battle situation for definite now, and in that regard, she was the leader. All fell in behind her, almost in natural step, as the portal opened.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13

_**Avalon**_

Buffy stepped out of the portal, and into Armageddon. All around her she could see the women, dressed in similar attire as Michelle and Tara had been, doing their best to defend themselves against an onslaught of magic and weaponry. Dark robed figures and men in black armour formed a solid wall, using spells and swords to cut through the women, and also the well-armoured men that were defending the women.

Bodies were strewn in callous abandon. Buffy could see that the bodies were mostly those in white, and their allies. Once in a while a black garnered figure could be seen lying prone, life having expired, but the numbers were so few. The Slayer looked at the devastation, taking in the situation in one long steady gaze. The guardians of Avalon were losing, and losing heavily.

Tara could barely hold back her tears. She had prepared her mind to consider the idea that they may arrive to find Avalon shattered, but nothing had prepared her for the carnage that greeted them now. Deep in her heart, she had hoped that her beloved home, where she had spent such a peaceful time, would be unblemished, untouched by the evil she had witnessed since returning to the mortal world. For the briefest of moments, she felt cursed, as if her existence had been the cause of such suffering amongst those she had called her friends and kin. She shook that feeling away, _this was not the time for recriminations, _she told herself_, this was the time for action._

The corpses of friends lay around the grounds and the entrances of the main building, mutilated almost beyond recognition. The white silk dresses, the attire of the servants of Avalon, were almost pink as their blood soaked into the material. Tara saw one young woman, Anne was her name, being skewered by the dark-clad soldiers that hung over her lustily.

The scene was one of anarchy, where the violent passion for the kill had over-ridden all pretence of honour and replaced it with cold and hateful malice. Every sword stroke, every enchantment, designed to rip and tear the house of Avalon, and its inhabitants, apart.

Buffy raised her sword, and charged. The others, armed with assorted weapons and spells, readied themselves to join the fray. Buffy attacked the nearest Morgana henchman, cutting off his head in one fluid stroke. Two others charged at her, but Buffy had not been the Slayer for as long as she had without instinctively anticipating such attacks. She counted slowly, waiting for the optimum moment. When it came, it was without mercy, without thought, without hesitation. She crouched and pirouetted low all in one continual movement. The sword swung with her, catching the first attacker fully in the belly. She did not stop her momentum, but used it to continue cutting into him, slicing him almost in two as the sword exited the man's back, severing the spine as it continued unabated. The sword of the second man had swung, but Buffy had anticipated everything and her movement brought her sword up to block the approaching blade with ease, as her momentum carried her through, pushing the assailant backwards, so much so that he fell onto the ground. Now Buffy was standing fully upright again and twisted the sword in her hand so that the blade point hung above the fallen attacker. Without skipping a beat she thrust the sword downwards, piercing the man's heart as if his body were made of butter. He screamed, agony punctuating every syllable as his dying breaths of anguish reverberated and echoed around the grounds.

Giles had always favoured battleaxes. He had always found them uniquely effective. _Swords were all well and good and useful,_ he had often mused, _but when push comes to shove, a battleaxe that connects with it's opponent pretty much ends all arguments after that._ So it was, battleaxe in hand, that Giles had entered the fray. His two opponents were armed with what looked like rapiers. _Good weapons if you fancied a spot of duelling or swordplay_, thought Giles, _not much good against a heavy weapon_. He was acutely aware that his adversaries were well trained in their weapon of choice, as the nicks and cuts they had scored against him testified to, but now he could feel the tide turning.

The screams of their fallen comrade had been such that for the briefest second, they had both turned their heads to see what had happened. Giles had often pressed upon Buffy the need to take full advantage of any weakness, any slip in concentration or guard, which the enemy gave. Now that same opportunity had been presented to him, and he took advantage. The glimpse away from him had been a mere flinching of an eye, but it was long enough for Giles to swing his axe with all his might and cleave the man's head in two down the centre. He pulled the axe out of the corpse's head as the second man, now stunned into terrified silence, considered his options. _Another flinch, _thought Giles,_ Morgana has not sent her crack troops on this mission._

But the man quickly found his courage again, if only on the basis of knowing that retreat was hardly an option and this man in front of him, wielding the axe that had sliced his comrade's head open like a watermelon, did not look like a man who would entertain talk of surrendering. So this man, who had been told by Morgana that this would be such a simple job that the novices of her troops could accomplish it, concluded that the only option left open to him was attack. He lunged at the man with the axe, this enemy that had dared to stop the noble crusade of Lady Morgana, praying for his sword to connect with flesh. It did not. Time seemed to stand still and he felt as if he were moving in slow motion. But the man with the axe was not, his speed was blinding, as was the pain that seared his own body and what remained of his soul for the brief seconds it took for his neck to be severed.

Willow stood by Tara's side. Since first passing through the portal and seeing the destruction around them, she had felt the dark rising within her. But here, with Tara by her side, she felt in control. She hadn't wanted to, as she was acutely aware of the emotional crutch that Tara had been to her, but right now, she needed control, and standing by Tara made her feel safe.

They were chanting in unison, Latin uttered from their collective voices as though spoken by natives. The area around them glowed, as three attackers bore down on them. The attackers swung, hitting a barrier inches away from the witches' bodies. But the force of the blow rocked Tara backwards.

Willow caught her, instinct taking over. The shield weakened, and Willow could see that the attackers could sense it. They swung once more, all three raising their swords like the Ring Wraiths at the Prancing Pony. Their blades came down, every muscle in the bodies of their masters flexed and poised for maximum damage against their victims.

Willow and Tara looked at each other, and for the first time since their reunion, relied on their natural instinct for each other. Their hands clasped together as if nature had acted before thought had been clarified. Their fingers entwined, and they could feel the power between them. Both of them smiled briefly, revelling in the connection to each other once more, before turning their gaze toward their attackers. The shield that had been static around them, now grew outward at blinding speed. It did not so much push the attackers away as hurl them across the grounds and over the wall.

They stood, hands refusing to let go. They once more looked at one another, their hand hold and gaze saying far more than words possibly could at that moment. Their hearts, their passion, their love, were now guiding their actions. They looked out over the battle ground, seeing that the tide had turned in favour of their friends. Screams could be heard from within the main building, and they as one, turned and ran in, their hands still clasped tight together.

Gabriel revelled in this sort of domain. He rarely smiled, he rarely had the chance, except when the heat of battle was upon him. Now he smiled, maniacally so, as he cut and thrusted, stabbed and sliced his way through the hordes. His eyes were tinted black, his hair and nails also. He was in ecstasy, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

Althanea had tried hard not to be affected by the devastation but she had been unable to control her sobbing. Now, however, she shut down her emotions and considered only the business at hand. She saw Gabriel and knew that she had little time if she was to stop him from going overboard. Althanea quickly viewed the situation, and saw that her Coven had succeeded in setting up a shield that was repelling the enemies from above and was slowly pushing them back. Within the grounds she saw that Buffy and her friends were making short work of the enemies that were within the courtyard, and she saw the Entwined, with worried expressions on their faces, enter the main building.

"Gabriel!" She shouted, hoping that the stern tone in her voice would be enough to halt him. She saw him stop and gaze at her, his usual placid nature masked under a gleeful sneer. "The Entwined have entered the building. Do your job!" Althanea let a silent prayer go by, that he wasn't so far gone as to be a risk to Willow and Tara. She had to trust the Goddess would protect them.

Gabriel entered the main building. He had been enjoying himself out there, and was not really in the mood for stopping. But enough of him remained to know the job he had sworn to do, so he sheathed his sword, replaced it in his hand with his 9mm pistol, and strode into the building.

His senses alerted him to danger, and he spun round, firing with marksman-like precision on the two assailants who had attempted to sneak up on him from behind, placing one cap into each of the assailant's heads. He walked over to the bodies casually, looking passively at them before firing three more rounds each into their bodies. A cruel smile flickered over his lips as he did so, his eyes lighting up as if the sensation had been sensual.

Willow could feel the presence of something or someone as she and Tara headed downstairs. She could feel the spirits of age whispering to her in ancient tongues, some she did not understand. Some of the voices seemed to be tinged with alarm, some with hope, but all with reverence.

"Tara, you get the feeling that the spirits of this place know more than we do about this prophecy?"

"I hope so. They say that all the great and good are buried here. The Fey, humans, we find the lost and bury them in our graveyard but this crypt, the mausoleum we are entering, is reserved for the kings and queens and leaders of old."

"I can feel them. They are afraid, but not of us. It's strange, but they seem to be, I don't know, praising our arrival?"

"I know. Not sure I like that. But I can feel Lady Nimue. She is in the main crypt, and she is in pain."

"Feels good to be beside you again, holding your hand. I haven't felt this safe for a long time."

"It won't be the last time, Willow. I think we both know we won't be able to stay away from each other, but we have to take it slow, as if we had just met. I still love you, and I always will."

A scream reverberated around the hallway where they stood, coming from behind the door that was ahead of them. Behind them, they could hear footsteps, speeding up as if cued by the scream.

The lovers turned, to be greeted by Gabriel, who slowed as he saw the two ladies ahead.

"Miss Rosenberg. Miss Maclay. It is unwise of you to go wandering into possibly dangerous territory without a guide. So let's not do it again, eh?" Though his words ended with a question, their seemed to be no hint in his voice that the question was actually up for discussion.

The scream returned, this time it was clearly female, and Tara recognised the voice immediately. "Nimue!"

Dawn had felt like a fifth wheel in this mix. Whilst Giles and Buffy had been part of the fighting unit, she had been asked to aid the Coven with the barrier spell. She had often hoped that one day she would get her hands down and dirty, to finally get fully involved in the slaying of demons and other nasties that so often used her world as their own private recreation room. But she now realised that the Watcher's job was exactly that: to watch, to train, to prepare those who have to do the slaying to perform their job and to ensure that they came back alive. Now sitting in this circle, chanting words and feeling the energy of the world around her and through her, she understood with crystal clarity the importance of her role. Not to fight, but to ensure the fight could be won. It seemed so ironic to her that after living with a Slayer and seeing the fight first-hand, and after all her Watcher training, that it took something outside of that world to make her see the importance of her task.

The thought made her smile but more importantly, made her feel part of the fight.

Buffy also understood the enormity of her task, and revelled in the fight once more. She missed this, more than she had realised. She had grown accustomed to the tedium of training, the preparing of others to do this job, and had forgotten just how in love with the job she actually was. Now she found herself in the thick of the fight, the world and her friends in peril, and she rose to her task. The muscles that had atrophied from lack of use had in the last few days been given a full workout and here and now, it was a fully fit and combat ready Slayer that faced the hordes. Her blows were fast, furious and, most importantly of all, deadly accurate. There was no grandstanding, no time for grand gestures or moves. It was workman-like, small steps and large swings. Parries and ripostes and swings and slices were disembowelling and decapitating all that stood before her. She was almost single-handedly beating back the enemies, and was a little upset that the barrier that had been erected allowed passage out but not back through.

Tara opened the door of the crypt, and almost gasped in horror. Nimue was chained to one wall, dress torn to the point where her modesty was almost, but not quite, compromised and blood ran from shallow cuts and bruises that covered her body. Standing in front of her, was a large man in fine clothes and large sword.

The man, now facing the three arrivals as they entered, raised his sword and charge, glee etched on his face. A sound, like a small explosion, echoed around the chamber as blood spurted from the man's chest, slowing him down. A second explosion rang out, this time blood ran from the man's groin, buckling him under his own weight as he screeched in agony.

Gabriel moved forward, and placed the muzzle of the gun against the man's temple. Without hesitation, he fired. The body dropped almost straight down, fragments of the man's skull and brain fled away from the explosive sound towards the nearby wall, blood escaping in any direction it could manage in one exodus.

Tara crossed to where Nimue was chained. She looked vainly for keys and considered a spell to unlock them, before realising that if a spell would have worked, then Nimue herself would be free. From behind her came a jangling sound, wet from blood. She saw Gabriel remove keys from the jailer, wipe them on a clean piece of cloth from amongst the cadaver's garments, and hand them to her.

"Should be one of these. I'll stand by the door, just in case our friend here is missed. The fight above was going our way so hopefully we won't meet much more resistance."

Willow moved beside Tara, empathising with her lover's concern, and aided her in unlocking the bonds that held Nimue to the wall and gently lowering her down and seating her on the floor.

Nimue looked at Willow, and smiled. "You found each other, that is good. Then it has not been in vain."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Asked Tara, her voice a mix of anger and concern. "I was owed that much at least."

"We could not risk it, Tara. I suspected spies within our camp and was proven right. But your relationship with Heather bought my silence. I knew that you could look after yourself, if the worst came, but they would have used Heather against you. I had to wait, and keep you safe, until such time as the Prophecy came into line, and I could use the situation to get both you and Heather out of here. The power of Avalon is the power of hope, Tara, the power to turn the tide of darkness by guiding others to the light. That is the Power of the Entwined. In the New world, you shall be a beacon for lost souls to find peace once more. Your fight is here." Nimue raised her finger, pointing at her heart.

Tears ran down Tara's cheek as she looked upon her guardian and then down towards the weapon used by her torturer. "Oh my Goddess! They used silver!"

"It's all right now! My time has passed on. I have carried the safety of Avalon until its rightful owners came to claim it for themselves. You are now tied to this place. Once you are Entwined, you shall **be** Avalon."

"Hate to cut into a sad moment, My Lady, but was Arthur's crypt disturbed by the attackers? Did they take the sword?" Gabriel seemed calmer now, but the black tinge on his hair, nails and eyes remained.

"It is safe. I moved it to the main altar. It is safe there. Only the residents of Avalon can open it. Is the Slayer here?"

"Yes. And if we are going to defeat Philippe, we are going to need her to use that sword."

"Then give her it with my blessing, Gabriel. And remember your promise to me and Avalon."

"I have not forgotten. I will hold to my word." Gabriel lent over, gently kissing Nimue upon the forehead. "Be at peace, my Lady. The Entwined are safe, your work is done."

Willow saw the sadness in his eyes, and understood. "She's dying, isn't she?"

"No! She can't. She mustn't." Tara was grief-stricken. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as the full horror of Willow's words and the injuries to Nimue finally hit home to her.

"It is my time, Tara. I have looked forward to rest. Now I will die and you will carry the torch, you and Willow. I have known about the Entwined for centuries, and often worried about the character of those who would be the answer to the Prophecy. I see you two now, here, and I cast all my doubts and questions aside. I know the world is in good hands now."

Tara could hear Nimue's breathing started to shallow and falter, and looked on helplessly, knowing that there was no amount of healing that she could do to save her now. As she heard the last gasps leave Nimue's body, Tara slumped forward, grief bearing her to the ground.

Willow gently placed her arms around her lover, manoeuvring her head onto her shoulder and stroking her cheek. "I am so sorry. I know how much she meant to you now."

Gabriel spun as he heard footsteps racing down the corridor. "Stay here. It might be our friends but I take nothing for granted!" He couldn't hide his melancholy, but business came first now, and his business was protecting these two ladies.

He watched the corridor as familiar faces approached. He walked out of the room towards them, his hands held up to placate Buffy, Giles, Althanea, Michelle and Dawn.

"Are they all right?" Asked Buffy. She was still unsure about this man, and she could hear the sobbing from within the room.

"Lady Nimue is dead. Miss Maclay is grieving and Miss Rosenberg is comforting her, Miss Summers."

"Did she suffer?" Michelle could barely hide her grief, and as she asked the question.

"The man who killed her took his time about it. But I think, come the end, she was glad to have met the Entwined. I think she found peace in that."

"What happened to the man?" Asked Giles.

"I wasn't as slow about it. Believe me, I would have loved to have given him the same treatment, but other priorities took centre stage. No fun for me, no fun for him."

Michelle touched Gabriel's cheek, nodding slightly as her eyes met his. He closed his eyes and braced himself. White light pulsed from her hand and snaked about his body, enveloping him as he twitched slightly in the light before it dissipated. Gabriel opened his eyes, they had returned to their normal blue, his hair and nails likewise had returned to their natural hue. He took a deep breath, serenity etched on his features, and nodded to Michelle, mouthing the words "thank you" in silent gratitude. Michelle looked over at Giles, whose eyes were burning into her, and saw a worried look of contempt on his features.

The group re-entered the crypt, and saw Willow and Tara in a gentle embrace. Both of them were standing, their tears still stained on their faces.

Michelle and Althanea knelt before the body of Nimue, small tears forming in the corners of their eyes. They were trying their best to be reverential, to show they acknowledged her legacy, but emotion would not allow them to do this without showing their sorrow.

"I think we should leave the four of them here, to allow them to grieve a little." Giles knew their presence, however respectful, was encroaching.

"Are any of the Coven free upstairs?" Asked Gabriel. "Because if there are, then there is something we can do whilst our ladies here deal with their sorrow."

"Yes." Answered Buffy.

Althanea turned to look at Gabriel. "What is it?"

"Morgana's men went straight for Arthur's crypt. Nimue saw it coming, and hid the sword in the main altar. I need a member of the Coven to open the seal. I know I'm welcome here, but I am not a part of Avalon."

"Agreed! Ask for one of them to aid you. You know the history of the weapon, Gabriel, I entrust that you will impart it to Buffy and the others."

"You do as you must here. I'll try and organise things upstairs. We don't have time to do the full rituals just now. Morgana is moving at pace. Our only chance is to hit her at her stronghold before she has time to recover her strength." Gabriel was his calmer self now. The hate and callousness that had tinged his voice was now replaced with sorrow, but it was a sorrow trying to hide itself under duty.

Gabriel motioned to Giles, Buffy and Dawn to follow him as he went back upstairs to the main chamber in the building.

"So, who is Arthur? What's this weapon?" Asked Buffy, keen to look at any new armament, especially one that was guarded by mystical forces.

"Miss Summers, although you are an American I at least give you the benefit of the doubt and consider you learned. Arthur, as in King Arthur. As in buried here after his death. Weapon, as in Excalibur, the sword of kings."

"**THE **Excalibur? What am I, royalty all of a sudden?"

"Hardly. But what you are is the leader when it comes to fighting and battle tactics and Excalibur is the one sword that, historically speaking, could cut through the armour potion, lotion, whatever the hell Morgana uses to make her champions invulnerable."

"Sounds like the perfect weapon."

"Yes it is, which is why the sword was one of the targets for this raid. Morgana is going to be fairly upset when she realises that not only have the Entwined met, but that the sword hasn't been retrieved."

"Which is why you want to hit her first?"

"Once she learns that the Entwined are together and we have the sword, she will attack the only place she knows we are vulnerable to an all out assault: the Coven's temple in Devon. I really would like to hit her first but we don't have the numbers or any idea where Morgana's castle is. We know it's somewhere on the Welsh-English border, but that is about it."

"Well, we do have the odd live trespasser, seems we might have to gain some information."

"I will take care of that."

"Actually, I think **I** will do that, Mr Caine. Something tells me your talents would be best served helping Buffy with details of her possible opponents once we attack Morgana's stronghold." Giles didn't trust Gabriel, and was more than aware of his penchant for violence, and every inflection in his voice made that clear.

Gabriel looked at Giles with cold disregard. "Very well. I suppose my superior knowledge of Arthurian legend and the Fey is best spent with the Slayer. Thankfully I don't allow my personal feelings to get in the way of what needs to be done at any given time. Not these days anyway." The inflection in his voice was almost growling.

Giles wanted to attack the younger Watcher, his temper post-battle was still high and he was in no mood to be baited by this man for whom he had so little regard. But as he looked from Gabriel to Buffy he could see that she would not welcome such a move and as much as he was loathed to admit it, Gabriel was right. The former Watcher knew this place and the area and the history far better than he did. Giles decided to cool his temper for now, and see what transpired. If action needed taking against Gabriel, he would do so at that time.

Buffy glanced from her Watcher to the former Watcher and was glad that she had a sword as she was acutely aware that it would take something that sharp and heavy to cut the tension between them. "All right! Testosterone on hold! Giles, see what you can find out about the location of Morgana's stronghold from the survivors! Gabriel, get me this sword! I don't know what the deal is with you two but one more flexing of manliness between the two of you and this sword is gonna make you feel all womanly, and I am not joking!"

"Yes, you are quite right, Buffy. I will question our trespassers." Giles voice was calm and gentle again. He was extremely proud of Buffy, and enjoyed her taking command, showing her worth under stressful conditions.

"Meanwhile, I have an idea of how to deal with the problem of numbers. We need to make a call to London. I don't know if we can do that with a phone from here so either I need to go back through the portal or we need to contact the Watcher's Council Psychically. Either way, we have plenty of Slayers at the HQ. They are green, some are recovering from wounds, but they are the best we can do at short notice."

"Sounds like a plan. Althanea and Michelle will know a way of contacting the Watcher's HQ from here, or they may volunteer to go back through the portal. I would suggest, Miss Summers, that you worry more about Excalibur and wielding it, than contacting the Slayers. If you cannot wield the sword, then no amount of Slayers will help you. More importantly, your best hope is getting Willow and Tara in there. Once they make their move against Morgana and Amy, all Hell will break loose. I'm looking forward to it, personally."

Buffy nodded at Gabriel. "Then let's stop with the exposition and get with the sword."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14

_**Wyngarde Castle**_

Kerry O'Reilly had been in her mistress's employ now for some 40 years. Often the thought had occurred to her that in all that time she had never aged from the young girl in her twenties as she was when she started, nor had she ever been asked to join her mistress in bed for an evening. She had been quite thankful for the former blessing, but even more thankful for the second. She was well aware of her mistress' particular desires and also of the fact that those who joined her for the evening rarely rose with her the following morning, other than to be carried out to the shallow graves nearby.

But she also knew, more than most, Morgana's horrific temper. She had been on the receiving end of it enough times to know that she did not suffer fools, insolence or disappointment lightly. Her temper was as volatile and as terrible as she was alluring and sensual. As Kerry had observed so much in her life, sometimes the most beautiful people are also the most evil, as if the beauty that covered them was bought at the price of the beauty within.

Kerry reflected on that sad irony as she viewed the scene in the courtyard below her. The soldiers and riders who had returned from their expedition to Avalon had been met with a less than warm reception from their mistress. That was to say, her feelings were less than warm, but her retribution was filled with fire and fury.

From what she had gathered, the men and women who had attacked the sacred burial site of Arthur had fought bravely, and had almost succeeded in their mission to take both the power of Avalon, and the sword Excalibur, back to Wyngarde Castle. But then the Entwined had appeared through a portal, with a Vampire Slayer and other warriors, and had beaten the soldiers back. The Coven from Devon that so often allied itself with Avalon, had been the source of much of the magical strength that halted the attack and caused their retreat.

Now Kerry watched in mounting horror as Morgana lashed out in fury at her soldiers. They were burned and scarred and bruised and demoralised. Morgana seemed incapable of stopping, incapable of finding reason to stop. Her rage seemed uncontrolled, her passion dictating her actions. Soldiers dropped like flies as she attacked again and again, waves of energy streaming from her fingers before transforming into flames and blades and shock blasts that tore into her subordinates without mercy.

At length, Morgana calmed her rage enough to stop. The hate in her eyes was still there for all to see but she had at least ceased her attacks.

"Now, next time I send you idiots to perform a task for me, I expect it to be completed. Or I assure you, the price of you failing will be death: either dying at the hands of the enemy, or dying very slowly at the hands of me."

"The Entwined arrived without warning, My Lady." Cried one of her men, trying to catch his breath and mop up the blood trickling from the cuts that adorned his face. "They came through a portal, rather than the lakeside. We had men waiting for them there. We did not know the Coven had a direct route to Avalon. We were caught unawares, and they were merciless in their attack. The Slayer, she is too strong for us."

He regretted his words almost as soon as they left his lips. The bolt when it hit him ripped through his nervous system as if it were sentient, and hungry for whatever morsels his nerves and blood and brain could gift it. He dropped as quickly as the attack came, though his demise seemed far longer to the victim than it did to the outside observers.

"And thanks to your collective incompetence I am without Excalibur and moreover, I have no way of gaining the power of Avalon without a direct assault. So be it, I will now have to kill those who wield it. If the Entwined cannot be siphoned of their power, then they will be destroyed with it. Assemble all the men, we will open a portal to the Coven at first light, and kill all who lie within."

_**Avalon**_

Tara had left the Coven with preparations for Nimue's funeral. She needed to come away, to give herself time to breathe, to digest everything that had been said and done over the past few days. It had made her faint, and she had gone to the only place where the world had ever made sense to her. She sat in the gazebo looking at the devastation the attack had left Avalon in. A single tear rolled down her cheek and dropped to the ground. There was no sound here, no birds sang, no wind blew. The others were all inside and the world was eerily silent, so much so that she could hear the faint splash of her tear as it struck the wooden gazebo floor.

Willow felt at a loss. She could feel her lover's pain, and yet she was unsure what to do. _Correction_, she corrected herself, _I know exactly what I want to do right now, I just don't know if Tara wants me that close_. She placed her right hand into Tara's left, her face one of compassion and worry.

Glad of the comfort and support, Tara embraced Willow. She knew that this might not be the healthiest thing to do, right here and now, to lean on someone when she was still unsure about their long-term future together, but it felt right. She wrapped herself around Willow, and allowed her soul mate to hold her fully.

Willow looked deep into Tara's eyes. She saw the pain and the worry and the fear and the sorrow that flashed within her clear blue eyes, and she wanted so much to take the pain away. With her right hand, Willow stroked Tara's cheek tenderly. Her eyes asked the question that she had been waiting to ask Tara since she first saw her. Willow's eyes pleaded, full of need, coupled with passion and concern. She saw Tara's eyes grant permission, as both of them moved their lips toward each other.

The kiss was tender and loving, passion was building between them both, but they kept it at bay. This was not the time for passion, they both knew it, but something in the kiss promised passion at some later point. Both felt hope rekindled, and love blossom in their souls once more.

Tara gazed at Willow. She had been so guarded about letting Willow in close, afraid of being hurt. But as she held her now she knew that she could never let this woman go, not in her heart. She loved her, and wanted to make it work. _Althanea was right,_ she said to herself, _we probably are destined._

Willow broke the embrace, against the wishes of her own heart. She looked at the woman in front of her, and knew in an instant why she loved her so.

"Are you going to be okay, Tara?"

Tara nodded, and gave a weak smile. "I will be. It will take time, but I will be. I think we better go inside now. Buffy will want to bring us up to speed on what is happening and I think it's time we dealt with this situation once and for all."

"Together?" Willow's voice was tinged with apprehension.

Tara nodded emphatically and embraced her once more. "Together. Always together."

Tressa had been a member of the Order of Avalon for some five years now. She had arrived at almost the same time as Tara, and had grown very fond of her home over the years. It now saddened her that with Nimue's passing, she was the only sole survivor of the attack who resided within the walls.

She led Buffy and Gabriel into the main altar chamber. It was a simple but elegant place, the altar was made of wood with ornate engravings adorning it, pictures of woodland forests and trees and rivers and gave the impression that it was the essence of tranquillity itself, preserved in visual form.

She walked behind the altar, pausing only to turn and signal her companions to wait. She placed her hands upon the Altar and let slip a silent prayer. Her companions could barely see her lips move, let alone hear the words, yet the concentration on her face was there for all to see. For the briefest of moments, illumination burst from her hands and she opened her eyes once more. She nodded to the two onlookers, motioning them to come to her.

Buffy was impressed by what she saw. The sword that Tressa lifted out from the compartment in the altar was a good four feet long and when she weighed it, it felt a little over 12 pounds in weight. It looked like a broadsword, but she had never handled one this light. Along it's blade, runes were etched with careful precision. As she swung the sword, feeling it's length and balance, she heard a low hum, similar to the sound of a finger caressing a crystal glass.

"Woah! Talk about powerful. I can feel it as I swing. Are these runes the same as on your sword?"

"Similar, but mine is nowhere near as powerful. There is one thing about this sword, Miss Summers, that you must remember at all times. The power you wield there is designed for one purpose: to inspire and lead. It is not some weapon of petty vengeance but a noble weapon to uphold noble ideals. When you wield it, you must be pure in your thought. Bloodlust, thoughts of vengeance, they won't allow you to use the sword in attack, the weight of the sword will be too much. Defence! Justice! Nobility! You must keep these in your mind and heart or the power of Excalibur won't be evoked, and the power is what you need to defeat Philippe."

"So, holding it above my head and shouting "I have the Power" or "By the power of Avalon" isn't going to be enough?"

"Not in so much as gaining the power in the sword, but it might delay your opponents momentarily as they lapse into shocked hysterics at your antics. As a battle tactic it is fairly unique and I doubt the enemy would be adequately prepared to deal with it. Personally I wouldn't try it but I am no tactician."

"Anyone ever tell you that your sarcasm is not funny". Buffy was annoyed at Gabriel's curt tone and yet she noted the attempt, at some level, to come across as humorous.

"Not anyone who's opinion I valued. I apologise for the sarcasm, Miss Summers, but this situation is serious, and this sword is no power-up in a video game. The head of the Order of Avalon has entrusted this sword to you with her dying breath, and I think that deserves a modicum of respectful seriousness from you."

Buffy had never been talked to so abruptly in a very long time and she wanted to find it amusing, but instead nodded, noting that this man really didn't care whether she found him amusing or annoying. He wanted the job done.

"Defence! Justice! Nobility! So how will I know if the sword is responding?"

"You will know."

"Did it work for you?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No, the sword doesn't work for me."

"How come? I thought you were tight with Avalon?"

"Tight? Yes, I am very close to the order, but not a member of it. I am an ally. As for the sword, let's just say we never really connected."

"So you won't be trying to steal it from me then once we finish?" She had a huge grin on her face. It was met with a passive expression.

"I think you're safe. I may be hot-headed at times, but I'm not so insane as to tackle a Slayer with your reputation. Not whilst you're awake, anyway."

Buffy ignored the remark. She had determined that either Gabriel had the world's most deadpan sense of humour, or that he was unable to tell a good joke. Instead she focused her concentration back to the sword, getting a feel for it. Giles had spent hours with her over the years practising sword drills and exercises, drills and exercises she had passed down to the new generation, but had always found them tedious. But somehow, here and with this sword, the drills were enjoyable, at times exhilarating.

Giles entered the Altar chamber, and watched the Slayer practice. He smiled, pride drawn across the features that had, until that point, been quite haggard. _Finally, _he mused, _all that tedious drill training has had a purpose._

He glanced at Gabriel, barely holding in his contempt. He saw the way that he was watching Buffy, the passive way he noted every thrust and swing, and worried for the briefest of moments that Gabriel was studying Buffy for some scheme later on. _No_, he thought and shook his head, _he would never be that stupid. Besides, Buffy is more than a match for him._

Gabriel glanced at the elder Watcher, and sighed. He knew that some day, he was going to have an altercation with Giles, and he did not relish it. Not the fight so much, as he would enjoy that, but as much as he hid it, he respected Giles. But for now, the needs of the Entwined were more important than Giles and his feelings.

He glanced at the Slayer. So much depended on her and yet so much did not. She was a potent and necessary distraction, without whom the attack was bound to fail. But she was not the hero of this day, she wasn't strong enough to be.

Gabriel lifted his head and nodded as Willow and Tara entered the chamber. _Now here be heroes_, he thought_, and they don't even know it. _When he had been assigned this task, he had often wondered how they would rise to the challenge. What he had seen so far had impressed him far more than he was willing, or able, to make plain. But there were one or two items still to achieve, and he made a mental note to call Dash as soon as he could.

Giles coughed softly, subtle enough so as not to startle anyone but loud and firm enough to ensure he had everyone's attention. When he saw that he did, he spoke. "Our friends were eventually helpful. Took less time than I thought, especially when I mentioned letting them go back to Morgana or being treated for their wounds here, they seemed rather anxious to stay. We know where Wyngarde castle is. The castle is protected by powerful wards, strong enough to hide from any mystical means of detection. But the soldiers wear an amulet that allows them to be guided back to the castle. Althanea and her Coven will use the amulet to create a portal that will send us directly there."

Buffy nodded, this was good news. "Now all we need is a portal from the Watchers HQ to here in order that the Slayers in London can come with us. Morgana wants a fight, I'll give her a battle she won't believe!"

"Miss Summers, your main task will be securing the soldiers and ensuring that her forces cannot get in to help Morgana, especially Philippe. As for Morgana and Amy, that is for the Entwined to deal with. Morgana would kill you before you got to swing a sword, Miss Summers. Willow and Tara are needed to defeat her permanently. Ladies, are you ready?" Gabriel's voice was calm, but firm.

The couple nodded in unison, and all could see that they were holding hands. It was obvious to their old friends that their relationship was re-kindled.

"We're ready." Said Willow. She could feel all eyes upon both Tara and herself. They were the key, the Entwined, without them this plan would fail. Willow felt the pressure, but with Tara beside her, she knew she would cope with the challenge ahead.

Althanea entered the room, shaken but resolute. "We are ready to assist you in any way we can."

"We need you to help Giles contact the Watchers Council in London and to open up a portal from there to here so that we can bring the Slayers that are there over here. We have the location of Morgana's home. Soon as the Slayers arrive, we open a portal and we hit her hard." Said Buffy.

"Two portals in such a small space of time will be difficult. Even if we do succeed, the Coven will be too weak to be of any real use to you." Replied Althanea.

"Giles, how close is the castle from here?"

"Two to three hours drive away. Not too far. I would suggest on a portal to bring the Slayers here and then driving to the area, using the medallion to guide us. This will also allow the Coven to rest and re-gather some of their strength."

"Sounds like a plan, Giles. Make the contact. Althanea, get your people ready to open the portal. Willow, Tara, get some rest. Gabriel?"

"I think I will take advantage of this small lull to make a call of my own."

"Okay, just don't be too long about it."

In a private chamber, Gabriel dialled his phone. He hated mobile phones, hated the term "cell phone" used by the Americans, but he had acclimatised himself to the term, having been in Massachusetts for so long.

"Good morning, White Circle Bookstore. How may I help you?" The voice on the other end was male, English and sounding exhausted.

"Dash, how's the shop?"

"We are reasonably busy. Your order came through, the books on Celtic myth and ancient languages. I didn't realise you had ordered quite so many."

"Need all the resource material we can lay our hands on. Did the history of Massachusetts come in?"

"Yes. Fairly weighty book, I might add. I am not exactly equipped to deal with these kinds of orders **and** run the shop. We need help."

"I will be back in the next few days. We will have a little help. Do we have the placements set up?"

Yes, two openings in Masterson high School, one for an IT Studies teacher, one for a Guidance Counsellor. We desperately need the paperwork though."

"The Watchers Council may be able to help there. Okay, there is possibly a ten-year old girl coming with them. I need you to evaluate the appropriate schools and choose one, preferably within safe distance of either the High School or the Shop."

"I wasn't told that babysitting a child would be part of the remit, Gabriel."

"Adaptation is necessary, Dash. The house ready?"

"Everything is set. Wards are in place. No one is getting into that place prior to the Entwined arriving."

"Good. We are going to settle the Avalon question once and for all. Then the offer will be made. I think they will accept. Soon as they do, we are coming to Masterson."

"Will see you then. Good luck."

"Bye."

Gabriel closed his phone. Everything was ready, almost. He was sure, once the offer was made, that Giles would help with the last outstanding detail. In fact, he was counting on it.

Tara entered the large room that had once housed the bunks. There had been some combat here and the bodies of some of the Order were strewn across the floor and beds, along with the corpses of the intruders. She crossed the room, sitting down on the bed that was once hers and taking everything in.

She had always been a passive person, partly by nature, mostly by nurture. Her upbringing had long taught her the fear and pain that violence brought to others. As such, even now, she was more interested in finding a peaceful solution to her problems. She instinctively felt the pain of others, and deep inside, felt a tinge of the pain she grew up with in every blow she witnessed.

In her time at Sunnydale, helping Buffy and her friends, she had learned that sometimes, you had to fight for those you loved, and for humanity in general. She was never comfortable with it but in a town like Sunnydale, you learned to fight or be a victim. So she had allied herself to Buffy and her cause, but mostly through her love for Willow.

But now she was being asked to take the role herself, alongside Willow, walking her own path. Buffy would be fighting her own battle and fighting it her way but this wasn't Buffy's fight, it was theirs. It was time to put aside the idea that she could live her life so steeped in violence and not fight back. But Tara decided one thing as she sat upon her bed and looked into her lover's eyes: She would not use violence unless no other avenue presented itself. Using violence as the first instinct had killed her and nearly destroyed Willow when she had tried to do likewise. She would not end up like Willow, afraid of being strong. Strength, Tara had always considered, was for upholding the weak, not for crushing.

"Are you sure you will be able to handle Morgana, Willow? I felt the dark in you. Can you keep it under control?"

"Tara, I want to be able to say "yes". I want to be able to re-assure you that I will never be that way again but the truth is **I** don't even know. All I know is that the darkness overtook me when I lost you and I re-gained control when you came back. That has to mean something."

"I hope so, because Morgana is playing for keeps with you, Will. She won't hold back, and she may be counting on you not holding back either. Promise me, Will, promise you won't let the darkness take you again."

Willow nodded. "Tara, I promise I will not let it if I have any say in it. But I cannot promise it won't re-surface without my consent." Willow wanted to kiss this angel that was in front of her. After all that had happened, her first thoughts were with Willow's safety. It was something the redhead was both grateful and saddened by. She felt unworthy.

Tara noted the thought. "You are worthy, Willow. You're worth it to me."

The two embraced, their love for each other crushing all barriers of fear and hesitation. It was a small moment, but one that lasted for what felt like both an eternity and a fraction of time.

A knock thundered on the door. "Ladies, the Coven have managed to procure 20 Slayers. Buffy is having a de-briefing in the Altar room. I have been asked to escort you both down." The voice was Gabriel's.

Tara opened the door and let Willow out first. "My lady. My Entwined." Tara smiled, for the first time it was one of genuine, relaxed joy than the nervous and fearful smiles of trepidation that had preceded them.

Willow feigned a curtsey, smiling like an over-excited Cheshire cat. Willow felt as though the world had finally returned to normality.

Gabriel shook his head, unmoved by the display of romantic affection by his charges, and led them back down to the main Altar room. The Slayers were there, with Buffy standing in front of them, on the podium. Giles, Dawn, Michelle, Althanea and Roger Wyndham-Price stood alongside her. With the Slayers were the survivors of the order and the Coven.

Buffy surveyed her team. "Good, everyone is here. Okay, we have four main problems. First are the men and women under Morgana's command. They are pretty strong and have a fair amount of magic to play with as well. So the Slayers will take out the guards whilst the Coven members and anyone from Avalon here who wants to come will take on the magical element. Second problem is Philippe. Seems that's where I come in. Third problem is Amy. She is pretty powerful and with a heck of a chip on her shoulder. Tara, you ready to take her one on one cos this might get ugly?"

Tara nodded slowly. "One thing, Buffy, I won't tell you how to deal with Philippe because that is your area of expertise. Afterwards, don't ask me about what happened to Amy, just accept that she got what was coming to her. I know that she was a friend once, but that was then, this is now. Amy is mine."

Buffy looked at Tara. There was a steely resolve, a determination and quiet anger to the blonde witch's voice and demeanour she was not used to. It took her by surprise, but she liked it. "Amy's yours then. Just remember to give me a warning if I ever get on your bad side."

There was a general chuckle from all around, a nervous laugh from those who remembered the shy witch of old but were well aware that whilst the goodness that was Tara was still there, there now existed a strength unfettered by fear and self-consciousness.

"**Fourthly**" Said Buffy, emphasising the word to re-focus attention, "We have Morgana herself. As Michelle and Althanea will be aiding with the taking down of the magical section of Morgana's army, Morgana becomes yours and yours alone, Willow. She is gonna be tough."

"I'm tougher. Morgana is afraid of me, or afraid of Tara and me. That's why she tried to rip us apart, tear me down. It hasn't worked. It will be a tough fight, but she hasn't got anything I can't handle. I just hope we never have to get into this kind of all-magic duel again."

"Once Morgana is defeated, the Court of Nightmares will spend a lot of time re-grouping. They won't attempt an outward assault like this one again. Plus, your magical talents will be best served in other areas. We will discuss that more when you return." Althanea seemed sure of herself as she answered.

"And exactly where do the Watchers, current and former, come into this?" Roger knew he was not the head of this show by any means, but he had been a leader all his life, and some habits were hard to shake.

"You will stay here. I can't afford to have you in the thick of things. Giles will help the Coven, as will Dawn. Gabriel will help myself and the Slayers take on the army. He is pretty handy with that sword of his." Replied Buffy. She didn't want to admit that the old man was a liability, but it was a cold, hard fact.

"Thank you." Said Gabriel, bowing slightly as if before royalty.

"Very well. Is there nothing I can do for this mission?" Roger felt defeated.

"Actually, there is something you can do for us, sir." Gabriel stepped forward. He took out a pen and notebook and scribbled down a few lines. "We need these items and fast. If this situation is to be taken advantage of, then these items are essential. They may not seem much, but they are crucial. I am sure Joseph will have done some of the work already, but we need that air of authenticity that a man of your stature and influence can bring to proceedings."

"Your request is highly unusual, Mr Caine, but I think I understand the situation. Yes, I will see to it that these items are obtained. Perhaps if the portal is still accessible I may return just now to get things started."

"We are too weak to open a portal so soon. We will take you with us across the veil, and then you will be able to contact the Watchers HQ by telephone." Althanea had known Roger for many years. She was saddened to see him now no more use except as a beauracrat, but he was old and with that age comes a time to accept that others were better placed to deal with certain situations.

"Then let's get out of here. Giles, soon as we get into reality again you organise us transport to Wyngarde. We hit it as soon as we arrive. We don't give Morgana a moment to re-group. If we do this right, we will take her and her minions out before we are even missed." Buffy made those the last words on the subject. She knew that some of the Slayers could die on this, but that was the nature of the job. She wasn't happy with Dawn going, but she was a Watcher now, and as such she had to be given the respect she deserved.

Willow and Tara looked at one another, their eyes saying the words their voices would not. "I love you. I will protect you. I will not leave you."

The group crossed the lake in small order, and landed safely across the veil. Those who had been a member of the mortal world prior to Avalon felt the upsurge of memories as they entered the mortal plane once more, but they quickly recovered.

Giles went into the nearest town, allowing all to catch their breath. He took Roger with him, thinking that he would provide the voice of authority should it be needed. They found a vehicle hire shop and, with a lot of persuasion and no small amount of palm greasing, managed to secure a bus for the trip north. Giles detested Large Passenger Vehicles, but he was more concerned about getting all the members of their army there in one go.

They returned with the bus, which was immediately covered with steel mesh and assorted runes thanks to the combined talents of the Members of Avalon, the Devon Coven, Willow and Tara. In no time it looked like a bus ready for war, or a trip into some dangerous neighbourhood.

"All right, everybody! All aboard the crazy train! Or Bus!" Shouted Buffy, trying to allow a little levity into the proceedings. It was met with muffled laughter.

Willow smiled at her as she entered the bus. "I thought it was funny. Good to see you haven't lost your knack for quips in a time of crisis."

"I don't know. As I get older it's gotten harder to keep the humour up. Guess it's all my time out of the field."

"Well, I appreciate it, and I know they will too." Willow indicated the other Slayers.

"Yeah, they are pretty strung out. What I got were the recently patched up. Those who nearly got killed and were about to be sent back out. So they have some combat experience, which is good. But they obviously weren't that good if they needed to be shipped back to London, which is bad."

"They will be fine with you leading them, Buffy." Tara had come up behind Willow, their fingers interlocking on instinct. "They won't fail you. I have a feeling."

"Well, I hope your feeling's right." Buffy smiled. She had often noticed in the past that Tara was blessed with a wiser head than her age should allow for. Right now, she was glad for the wise re-assurance the blonde witch promised.

Giles smirked, his mind concluding that the group looked as if it was some morbid coach trip to the seaside, rather than a group of heroes heading to a rendezvous with an enemy who would destroy the human race given half a chance. He climbed into the driver's seat, started the engine, and drove off. The medallion was on the dashboard in front of him, pointing the way.

The coach was full of fear and hope, trepidation and contemplation and yet, for all those dark emotions, one emotion rose above all others on the coach. That feeling was calm.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter 15

Wyngarde Castle 

Morgana looked at her army, shaking her head in dismay. She was less than impressed with what she saw in front of her in the courtyard. Her numbers had been severely depleted by the attack on Avalon and, had time allowed, she would have preferred more time to re-enforce her troops. But time was not on her side. The Entwined were together and the Slayer had Excalibur. Every moment of delay gave them time to prepare defences. If she was to succeed, she decided, then she must seize the initiative and use the element of surprise.

She was weak, and needed to feed. She couldn't afford to lose any of her army, and she loathed making use of her servants, as good ones were so hard to find. But this was not the time for worrying about servants, she told herself. Unless she was at full strength, Morgana knew she would lose everything. It was time to sacrifice to protect her standing. She scanned her people again, and saw her young maid, Kerry O'Reilly, and smiled.

Kerry panicked, knowing all too well what the smile represented. All too often, Kerry had seen that smile directed at her Mistresses latest conquests, before she used her magic and wiles to drain them of their life energy. She saw two members of the Coven approaching, and ran. She didn't know where she would run to, nor did she have any plan in mind as she fled. In her mind, she saw freedom as merely gaining the distance until she could cross the threshold into the Mortal world she once came from, a world that once offered her prison for her crimes, but now in a strange twist of irony, offered her only available chance of freedom. In reality, she gained only a few feet before turning the corner of the building she was nearest to and coming face to face with Amy.

"Going somewhere?" Amy asked, her face and voice full of calm, almost playful, innocence.

"Please! You have to help me! I don't want to die! I didn't sign up to be one of the Mistress's concubines!" Tears streamed down Kerry's cheeks as she dropped to her knees, arms outstretched as if she were drowning and reaching out for hopeful rescue.

Amy reached down to her, face full of compassion and concern. "I will help you", she said with authority, nodding emphatically as she spoke. Without a moment's pause, her face twisted into a cruel and mocking visage, "I will help you be the Mistress's strength. You serve her, now you will service her."

Kerry tried to break free from Amy's grip, but she was too weak. She looked at Amy, who was now smiling with a callous pleasure that was unnerving but in some strange way seemed to make her more beautiful. Kerry searched for the slightest sign of humanity, of pity, in Amy's eyes, and saw nothing but cold disdain.

Amy touched the top of Kerry's forehead, barely brushing her skin with the tips of her fingers as she whispered some ancient Latin. Her prey's body went limp as she fell unconscious to the ground. Amy signalled to two of the soldiers nearby.

"Take Kerry here to Morgana's chamber, then continue with your preparations."

"At once, Miss Amy."

Amy liked that. She liked the fact hat these men feared, respected and obeyed her. It was an aphrodisiac that she found intoxicating. Sooner or later she would ask Morgana about the sensual arts of magic, and use them to explore her heightened sensuality. But now a thought even more sensual than control gripped her whole: The thought of murdering Willow.

She had to admit that the idea some years ago would have been abhorrent to her. But now, with all that had happened between them, she did not see Willow as the old friend she had once been in Sunnydale High School, but as a rival to power. For Amy, it was a matter of justice.

Amy had been allowed to languish in rat-form for years, and when she returned to human form, she had been abandoned by Willow simply for showing her the gateway to more power. Willow had spurned her friendship, accepting herself as lesser and yet she became stronger still, so strong in fact that she had nearly destroyed the world in grief. Did the authorities know about this? No, they did not. She had attempted to commit near-genocide of the human race and yet somehow Willow had remained untouched by the authorities. Instead, her friends "helped" her rather than punishing her by teaching her about her power and how to properly control it. And when she had tried a little payback, to remind Willow what true power was, she had been denied because of "love". Willow had abandoned her and been rewarded for it. Amy did not see that as a reason to respect Willow, but a reason to kill her. Willow had a lot of power but it was power that Amy was convinced she could take from the red head. Amy thirsted for vengeance, and only Willow's death would satisfy that thirst.

She returned to her place beside the podium where Morgana had finished appraising her troops. Amy gazed upon her benefactor, and for the slightest moment, she understood what Willow saw in another woman, but she let it go. Amy liked her men far too much.

"Kerry will be waiting for you when you retire, My Lady. I had to invoke a little sleep spell on her but she will be wide awake for you when you take her."

"Good. The energy in her will allow me to replenish what I have lost and allow me to be a match for the Entwined. You will be my eyes and ears whilst I am "entertaining" Miss Kerry. Make sure the men are ready for the morning. I will not allow the Entwined time to re-group."

"It shall be done, My Lady." Amy gave Morgana a small curtsey. She was determined to bide her time. Above all things, Amy was acutely aware of Morgana's reputation for not letting her acolyte's attain too much power, but she would not be a victim to another powerful witch. This time she would have control.

Morgana noted the look in Amy's eye. After the attack, she decided, there would be no more Amy Madison. She could not risk this power-hungry and vengeful woman gaining too much power. She would be a risk to all that Morgana had built, as well as to Morgana's life.

She shook the thought of future plans from her mind as she turned to the here and now. Firstly, she would feed on the sensual energy of Kerry, to replenish her own waning energy. And then, she would deal with the Entwined. She smiled at the thought of possibly using the magic she would now use on Kerry upon Willow and Tara. Morgana breathed heavily at the thought of both the pleasure and the energy that she would consume, the energy that kept her youthful and powerful.

Kerry saw her mistress enter the bedchamber. She had awoken only moments before to discover that she was handcuffed to the bed. Now that she had seen Morgana, and knew for certain the fate that awaited her, she began to sob uncontrollably.

"Don't be afraid, Kerry." Said Morgana, almost soothingly. "You are about to help me in defeating our enemies once and for all. Your death will be seen as a noble sacrifice."

"I-I could carry a sword or something. Protect you that way." Kerry tried to hide her fear under the guise of humorous bravado. She knew in herself, without looking at Morgana's icy stare, that she had not succeeded.

"Sweet child, but no. You would die needlessly and without possibility of saving this castle or me. But this way, not only will your death have meaning, it will also be a lot less painful and far more pleasurable for you. Death at my hands can be an experience no sword or act of violence could match for sensual pleasure. That at least should offer you some comfort." Morgana crossed the room towards the bed, allowing her hand to carress Kerry's face and move down her prisoner's body. "It's as comforting as it's going to get, Kerry, so you may as well relax and enjoy it. I know I will". Morgana smiled, it was almost sweet, almost comforting and she saw in Kerry's eyes a tiny glimmer of compliance, the kind that torture victims give when offered the choice between a quick death and continued torture. She liked that glimmer, it was all the consent she needed, not that she needed consent, but it was so much more satisfying if the victim put up no struggle.

Giles was keeping one bleary, tired eye on the compass necklace directing himself and his passengers to Wyngarde Castle, the other on the road. He had been driving for three hours through horrendous traffic and, with all the excitement that had preceded this journey; he was beginning to feel fatigued.

He glanced in the rear view mirror at the assorted remnants that made up their "army". Most were sleeping, albeit lightly, whilst others were planning strategy or playing the well-worn game of "I am going to kill more than you". He hated that game. _Warfare was no time for cheap bravado_, he reminded himself. But he was also painfully aware that in the hours before a battle, the Slayers and their allies had often said or done the strangest things to occupy their time and to make the thought of their demise as far a possibility in their minds as could be reasonably achieved. He admired their courage, these young men and women who were about to mount a siege that none of them may survive. But if he was marked to die, he told himself, he would do it proudly at their side.

Willow glanced down at Tara, who was resting on her shoulder. Even after five years, the memories of countless moments like this one seemed so fresh and yet none felt as good as this one. Not because it was the latest, the newest memory, but because Tara was here to be lying next to her at all. She glanced briefly upwards, thanking all the Gods and Goddesses she could think of for the miracle she had been given, the second chance fate had presented her with.

Tara raised her head, and stared deeply into Willow's eyes as she lowered them down towards her. She smiled, and leaned in, kissing Willow tenderly. The kiss said everything that could not be said in a crowded bus. It said all that was needed. It said "I love you".

Giles caught the kiss as he glanced once more in the rear view mirror, and smiled. After all the pain and heartache and sorrow that he had seen Willow suffer, it seemed right and just that both Willow and Tara had been given a second chance. He had often thought that Willow's second chance had been Kennedy, but he knew now that Tara was, and always had been, her best hope for finding peace in herself, and vice versa.

He glanced once more at the compass, and saw it glow with an eerie ambience. "Get ready! If I'm right, we are about to pass through the wards and into Morgana's domain. She may well be alerted to our arrival the second we cross over so be alert, everybody!!"

Willow and Tara moved towards the rest of the Coven as they formed a circle, preparing for any eventuality. Similarly, Buffy, Dawn, Gabriel and the other Slayers grabbed their weapons. Swords and axes and crossbows and handguns were strapped and slung and sheathed in a single swift motion. It was as if this troop had been together for years, guessing each other's rhythms and needs down to the tiniest glance and gesture. Even Gabriel seemed attuned to the Slayer's music.

As the bus buffeted through invisible walls that marked the entrance through the veil, the coven, with Willow and Tara's assistance, closed their eyes and began to chant in unison. The bus slowly settled into a calmer rock as opposed to the violent jarring it had been taking. It had felt like an enormous tunnel that, without knowing where the sides were, had reached out with talons and was now scraping and striking the armoured sides.

The compass now began to glow more intensely than ever, so much so that it turned to dust before Giles' eyes. "All right! We must be here!" He saw a light flash in front of him. The light almost blinded him, such was the intensity of it and the speed that it had appeared, which had caught him off guard. As the light faded, and Giles eyesight returned to him, he saw a high stone wall dead ahead, and instinctively pressed down hard on the brakes. The tyres seemed to roar in fury, trying to keep going in defiance of the brakes. Giles saw the wall approaching as if in slow motion, the brakes fighting the momentum of the bus like two great gladiators waging a violent war of attrition, neither side willing to give in. The brakes began to assert their dominance and the bus slowed, sliding towards the wall. Giles closed his eyes briefly, praying to any Gods that were bothering to listen to give them some sort of help. His prayer was answered by the world returning to it's normal speed by way of a sudden, jarring jolt as the bus came to a halt, mere inches from the walls of the castle they now saw in front of them.

Giles could hear the distant sounds of alarm coming from beyond the walls. He fought back any panic that the sudden appearance of the wall had set in him and steadied his nerves for the task ahead. He turned to face his passengers and saw them already heading for the exit, determined looks on all their faces.

Buffy turned to look down the line, "All right, everyone!!! We all know what we have to do so let's do this quickly."

"My Lady! My Lady Morgana!" The soldier ran down the corridor, hoping that his Mistress would kill the message and not the messenger. He opened the door to her bedchamber and saw Morgana in a mid-coital embrace with her victim. Light was emanating out of Kerry's mouth and body and seemed to be being absorbed by his mistress. He could see Kerry trying to struggle, trying to fight as small wrinkles appeared on her forehead and cheek, with larger versions appearing on what bare skin she had exposed.

Morgana turned, breaking the process. She was in no mood for interruptions, and ensured the soldier knew this in one gaze. "How dare you disturb me while I am feeding!"

The soldier began to shake, fear almost clutching his voice until self-preservation over-rode him and let him speak again. "My Lady, the Slayer and her army are here! They have broken through the gate and are attacking our forces in the courtyard."

"Here? How? There is no way that they could have found us. The wards should have stopped anyone from getting here." Morgana's eyes shifted quickly, as if she was flicking through some inner filing system for answers. She nodded, realising that the amulet had been tapped into, the amulet she had given her soldiers to find their way back home from Avalon. She smiled cruelly, aware of the irony of her being partially responsible for the attackers coming here, and calmed herself. She leapt out of bed and with one click of her fingers, was clothed. She had her back turned to the soldier as she did this, but now faced him once more.

"Let's go!" She said. Calmness exuded from her voice and she saw that the soldier was relaxed. She was happy enough with that for now. She needed men loyal to her, not frightened of her wrath.

After they had left, Kerry's body, now aged almost beyond recognition, began to breathe. Her gasps were shallow, almost inaudible, but she opened her eyes. _I am still alive, _she thought, _maybe there is hope yet._

Willow saw the carnage happening in front of her, and for the briefest of moments, turned her head away from it. She had been painfully aware that the men of Morgana's army would be lambs to their slaughter but she had not expected them to go down so easily. Worse still, they seemed determined, perhaps through fear or maybe loyalty to their cause, to not fall so quickly. This had resulted in the soldiers meeting violent ends as they fought hard and fast against the invaders. Against normal men they were the stronger by far, but for the most part they were fighting Slayers, warriors who were more than a match for these simple troops. As she watched the battle in front of her, she could feel Tara's right hand pressing against her left. Their fingers interlocked as if by reflex, and she felt calm again.

Tara used her free hand to gently stroke her girlfriend's cheek. She could feel Willow's pain, knowing all too well that Willow had once tasted the heady mixture of grief and murder, and knew that deep within her lover's calm exterior, there was a soul that was screaming still for the pain to end. She unhooked her fingers from Willow's hand and placed her arm around Willow's shoulder, as much to steady her nerves for what was to come as much as to comfort her. They held each other for the briefest of moments, and then looked deep into one another's eyes. Within their gaze was each other's strength, and they drew from each other what was needed.

Buffy launched herself into the thick of the fight, instinct dictating her tactics, her every movement. She felt almost sorry for the men in her path as she slashed and hacked her way through the wave of Morgana's troops that stood between her and the main door of the castle.

Around her she saw the other Slayers fighting. Some were fairing equally well, dispatching their opponents with ease whilst others, possibly through their wounds, lack of combat training or just plain bad luck, were being beaten back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Giles and Gabriel do what they could against the guards. Being only human, they were at a distinct disadvantage when it came to strength and speed. But they seemed to be countering with their greater ability with the sword.

Buffy returned her focus onto her own combat again. She was focusing on the opponent at hand but also allowing her peripheral vision to search for Philippe. Buffy was convinced he would be inside the main building of the castle, but was also prepared for him to make a pre-emptive strike.

Battle raged all around her, the clash of arms and the screams of the dying and the terrified rose to a deafening volume. Not since her battle at the Hellmouth of Sunnydale had she encountered this noise, and yet something in the atmosphere, something in the very air, seemed to make this place sound far louder than even that subterranean cavern in Sunnydale. Buffy's senses peaked, something was wrong. She dispatched the poor, mismatched swordsman in front of her and gazed upwards towards the top of the castle. As she did so the ground troops pulled back, re formed but remained distant. She saw the glint of metal in the hands of the 60 or so men in the castle battlements and those who now surrounded them on the walls. All of them holding rifles, all of them primed, and ready to fire. And all aimed upon the Slayer and her troops.

"Get into cover now!" Screamed Buffy, knowing her words would probably start the shooting gallery. But she had to give her troops a chance, had to give Willow and Tara a chance.

The rifles fired at the displacing targets. Some rang true, cutting down Slayers and Coven members with deadly accuracy. Others fired wildly, partly through the speed of movement by the men and women below, partly by the troops own inexperience. These shots ripped through arms, legs and torsos. Blood splattered in all directions and the sounds of screaming deafened the sound of the firearms.

Giles felt a pain in his side as a bullet sliced through his shirt and gashed his side. He spun in agony, falling to the deck and scrambling for cover. He felt his side, and felt the warm wet blood oozing from his wound. He smiled, it could have been much worse. He saw Buffy crawling towards him, and wondered if she would be able to make it. He held up his hands, pleading for her to stop, intimating with gestures that he was fine and she should not put herself at risk. He saw Buffy shake her head, part in confusion and part in defiance, and continue her crawl. _When this is over we will have to look at our communication system, _he mused.

Dawn crouched with the remainder of the Coven and the House of Avalon. She had never heard so much noise and seen so much death, except on television. She hadn't been in the Hellmouth on that last fateful day and she hadn't been involved in helping Buffy take out either the Mayor at Graduation or the Initiative. She knew that she hadn't been there, not really, but even her memories didn't place her at those events. She had been used to seeing demons of various kinds die and vampires turn to dust when staked and she had managed to convince herself that it was all okay because they were demons, monsters. But these men, whilst not exactly human, died like humans and screamed in agony like humans. All of a sudden death and war became real for Dawn, and she didn't like it.

But she didn't like guns. Guns had killed Tara, and nearly killed Buffy. She didn't like guns being used in such numbers, even if they did seem to be rifles that needed to be loaded one at a time, rather than the automatic weapons favoured by the modern army and police and drug dealers. She saw it as a cold comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

"Can't we do anything? Can't you place some sort of barrier around them, stop them from getting shot?"

"We can, Dawn" answered Althanea, "but in order to do it we must be able to perform the ritual in relative safety, so as not to break our concentration. And we must keep it up, the barrier requires us to remain focused on it, it would drain us."

Althanea turned her head to the rear, seeing Willow and Tara sitting across from each other, hands outstretched in front of themselves, mouths chanting in unison. Their eyes were closed, their faces fixed in concentration. Bullets seemed to simply vanish as they came near. And then she felt it, the warmth covering her, embracing her. She looked upon the rest of her Coven around her, and saw that they too could feel it. As her gaze focused upon the Slayer and her people in the front line, she saw that they too could feel the change, the warmth. Althanea smiled, the Entwined had seen to the danger.

Buffy felt the warmth surround her and saw the confused looks on the riflemen, and knew that their window of opportunity had come. "Let's go!" She shouted at the Slayers around them. Many of them had felt the change, it had felt in many ways as the change that had made them Slayers had. They could feel the magic surround them, and contain them. Buffy saw it in their eyes, and motioned for three of them to attack the men on the walls, knowing that the spell would have to be as short as possible to be of any use. Magic was still the real weapon here and if they weakened on that, then all of this fighting would be for nothing and Buffy knew it.

Buffy watched as the Slayers she signalled to leapt from their respective positions near the steps to the wall battlements and begin to attack the men on the wall. The riflemen seemed unarmed other than with the rifles themselves which, realising they were useless as ballistic weapons, were using them in an attempt to inflict blunt force trauma on the Slayers instead. They swung their rifles as they would swords, as if they had been trained in no other martial discipline. It was clumsy, and from Buffy's vantage point looked farcical, and the Slayers who attacked them blocked and dispatched them with almost criminal ease.

The first three attackers were quickly overpowered and the weapons came into the possession of the Slayers. From behind them, they saw Giles, still oozing blood from his wound but moving purposely, and Gabriel approach them. Their hands were outstretched, indicating their want for the rifles. The Slayers threw one each to them, and threw away the remainder after breaking it.

Gabriel and Giles rifled the bodies for ammunition, and found plenty of rounds each. Whilst neither of the former Watchers were proficient with rifles, they wanted ranged weaponry. Gabriel had a gleam in his eyes, along with a dark tint that matched the darker shade of brown that his hair now took on.

Giles was worried, he knew all too well what the change in pigment meant, but he was powerless to stop it. He could only hope that the Coven would reverse the problem as soon as possible. For now he focused his attention upon the riflemen on the wall, and aimed.

Both of them felt the slight drop in temperature that signalled the spell's end. They raised their rifles at the men standing above the main building, and fired. The bullets hit their targets with violent efficiency. Blood and muscle and tissue and brain matter exited from the wounds the bullets created. Giles was passive, his face showing no flicker of emotion. Gabriel was smiling, his eyes and hair becoming blacker with each passing moment. His breathing was becoming patchy, as if he was exerting himself.

Buffy saw the men on the main building retreat away, as the soldiers in the courtyard once more charged into the fray. But they were met with resistance from the Slayers, and occasional gunfire from Giles and Gabriel up above. Buffy smiled, she could feel the tide turning, she could feel the entrance within her grasp.

Morgana entered the main hall, her pace now a quickened march as she strode for the main entranceway to meet her enemies head on. She saw her troops retreating back from the entrance, into the main hall, and away from the Slayers as they entered. She smiled, this was better than expected, and then she saw Buffy, and the sword. Her features froze, blood turning almost to ice with fear. She felt herself physically falling back. If her plan was to work, it would have to be now.

"Philippe, get the sword! Kill the Slayer and get the sword!"

Buffy heard Morgana's words and looked around for the danger. From the balcony above them, she saw the imposing figure of Philippe drop down. He was armoured in a very modern looking Kevlar battle suit, the likes of which she had seen Riley and Sam wear last time she had seen them in Sunnydale. But in his hands he was carrying a very mean broadsword. It looked vaguely medieval, which somewhat clashed with his modern, Action Man attire but Buffy was wearing a Jeans/T-Shirt combo that could hardly be described as fitting in with the period that Excalibur came from, so she decided to muse more about the culture clash when she was alive after the battle, and re-focused on the problem at hand.

Philippe charged, his sword held high, murderous intent in his eyes. As he approached he brushed aside all within his path, allied and Slayer alike. His target was fixed, and for all the time from the moment he landed to the moment he came within range, he did not turn his gaze away from the Slayer.

Morgana could feel the change, and with a nod of her head she let loose her surprise. From the balcony now appeared her Coven, her own magical arsenal. They began to chant, and the air began to grow thick around the Slayers, the ground began to buckle and split as the very foundations of the castle were violently shaken by the chanting. The emblems of ravens fluttered on the pendants and were visible on the arms of all, and the ravens saw before them the rich pickings of a warrior's graveyard to be.

Althanea and Michelle led the Coven and the House of Avalon into the main hall. Here, as best they could, they crouched down, forming a circle. The movement of the ground and the change in the air was making concentration difficult, and Althanea summoned up all her inner strength to remain calm. Her calmness radiated around her followers, and the Priestesses from Avalon, and they focused on the task at hand. From the corner of her eye, Althanea could see Morgana and her acolyte, Amy, both with their eyes closed, both standing facing the Coven, their faces frozen in violent concentration, as if the very nature of the action they were attempting to perform was etched on the cruelty of their faces. Althanea knew time was critical, and that it was running out.

From beneath them Althanea felt the ground weaken as vines reached out, grasping and pulling at the circle of her Coven, dragging the entrapped downwards. The floor was softening, as it had before at the temple. She saw her sisters and the Fey from Avalon slipping under the quicksand floor that the spell had created. She tried in vain to prevent it, but her spell, whilst able to slow the process, could not stop it.

Tara, with Willow close behind her, entered the building. She saw the devastation before her, and acted. All her life, she had been afraid to act, partly because of her Mother, who had taught her that every use of magic had to be thought through, that every use of magic was not an act in itself, but a balancing act of cause and effect, and that without thought, consequences were inevitable. She had seen all too well the effect of not listening to such sound advice, and had seen Willow slip down the path of negative consequences. Partly it had been her own feelings of self-doubt, of a lack of self-worth, that she would not be able to make a difference even if she did act. Her father and brother had made her belief that her magic was intrinsically evil and that no good could come of it.

But now, having died and been allowed a second chance to live, she had seen that sometimes action, or reaction, must supersede thought. Lives now depended on her reacting, and reacting now.

Willow was ahead of her, and was already conjuring a spell to counter the effects. Her voice was a mere whisper, almost a silent prayer, and she easily heard the same phrases being spoken in unison by Tara beside her. She smiled, it was good to feel her touch, to hear her voice in tune with her once more. _No_, she corrected herself, _in tune with each other. No longer me in charge, nor Tara, but together._

Giles entered in behind the two witches and saw Morgana and Amy knocked back off their feet as if they had been swatted aside by a Giant. They crashed against the wall at the far end, stunned but conscious. Now he saw the Willow and Tara turn their attention towards the Coven, sinking in the mud floor ahead of them. He knew enough of the language they spoke to see that whilst Tara was raising them up, Willow was concentrating on returning the floor to it's natural state. Within moments, the Coven were free, and the floor was solid once more. Giles shook his head, almost in disbelief. He knew they were powerful, but this was unprecedented. He smiled, thankful that he was not on the opposing side.

Morgana, still stunned, staggered towards the side exit, and into the back halls. Behind her, she could hear Amy following. For now she was glad of the company. She had underestimated the Entwined, but it was only for a moment.

"Amy, I need time to set something up that should swing things back in our favour again. I need you to distract them for me. Stay in the dining area, I will be in my throne room. I will only need a few moments. Think you can handle that?"

"Be my pleasure." Replied Amy, a sadistic grin appearing on her face.

Buffy had forgotten how strong Philippe was, and the added knowledge that he might be in real mortal danger, had made his attacks all the more determined. There was no more grandstanding from him, he was closing for a quick kill. She swung her sword, parrying his blow and buckled backwards under the weight of the charge. Still she could feel herself being pressed, as Philippe, with determination and deadly precision, probed for openings. Buffy once more went for the block, realising too late that Philippe's attack had been a feint, and she was now woefully exposed on her right side. She saw the blade come down, and prepared to ride the blow as best she could.

But then a small sound like an explosion went off behind her, it was the unmistakable sound of a handgun and she saw Philippe stagger back, the bruise where a bullet hole might have entered had it not been for the man's toughened skin clearly evident on his forehead. Buffy dared a small glance back, and saw Gabriel aim and fire once again. Twice more the sound erupted, and Buffy knew that for this to be effective, the time for pressing her own attack would have to be now.

END OF CHAPTER


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter 16

Amy walked to the far side of the anti-chamber to the main hall. Morgana had left instructions for her to do all she could to delay the Entwined, but Amy had no intention of sticking to the plan. She saw this as her opportunity to kill Willow, and she was determined to take it.

As she heard the footsteps approaching Amy could feel her adrenaline flowing within her. Her heart raced faster than it had ever done before. The excitement was reaching delirium, and she hoped for the briefest of moments, that it would stay just like this forever.

Willow and Tara entered the room from the far left side, their gaze fixed upon the doorway ahead of them. For the briefest of moments, Willow allowed her eyesight to flick to her right hand side, and she reacted on instinct.

"Tara down!!" Willow pulled her lover down to the ground with her. Flames shot out above them for a moment before the ball of flame impacted on the near wall and spread it's fiery tongues along the stonework.

Tara saw the next ball of flame hurtle towards them and saw Amy smiling as she mouthed her words and another ball of flame appeared in her hands. Tara pointed at the oncoming fireball with a single finger of her left hand, stopping it dead in its tracks. The flames began to die as, with the aid of Tara's incantation, a slow breeze enveloped it and turned the fire in on itself.

Amy paused. She had not expected such a show of power, and such a calm demeanour. She had assumed that Willow was the greater threat, and that Tara was merely a minor irritant, but now she sensed that Tara may be as strong as her lover. Amy relished the challenge. Killing Tara would not only be rewarding as a kill, but would shatter Willow.

Willow regained her feet, and looked directly into Amy's eyes. "Why?"

"Why not? You ruined my life, any chance I had, and you got away with it for too long. Well no more."

"Any ruining you did to your life you did to yourself. Willow did what she could to help you but you wanted to drag her down to your pain and when she wouldn't play ball you got petty. Well, payback's a bitch, Amy, and I'm just the bitch you need." Tara could barely control the anger within, her tone was venomous but she knew that Amy had to be talked down, if there was any hope of settling this without the bloodshed Amy was seeking.

Willow was shocked at the tone in Tara's voice, but she saw that her anger came from her love for Willow and her anger over what had happened to Willow during that dark time they were away from each other in Sunnydale.

"Tara. Are you going to be okay to deal with her?"

"Go, take care of Morgana. Leave Amy with me. She won't be a problem."

Buffy pushed on, determined to press home her advantage that she had gained on Philippe. At her left side, she saw Gabriel swinging his sword, Giles to her right. Their efforts were no more than distractions, she knew, but she appreciated the help nonetheless.

Philippe swung his sword, crouching as he turned, slicing at Giles, hitting him in the thigh and spraying blood as the wound opened.

Giles screamed, the pain almost too much to bear. He dropped, unable to keep balance or even take a tactical retreat. He crawled back, determined to get out of harm's way as fast as possible.

Buffy lunged at Philippe, anger darkening her vision. All thoughts now focused on pressing her strength on him. Every thrust, every swipe, clinical and precise in its targeting. But yet, for all the hits she placed upon him, she could not force things through. Buffy saw that Philippe, although beaten back, was not sustaining any injury from her blows. Worse yet, she could feel herself tiring, her anger having sapped at her strength more than she had intended.

Gabriel pulled Buffy back. "Remember, Miss Summers, Defence! Justice! Nobility! You cannot use Excalibur in any other way! Mister Giles will live but if you intend to ensure the rest of us do you have to focus. Move!!!" Gabriel swung in to block Philippe's head bound blow, metal clanging against metal as the two swordsman locked eyes. Gabriel, felt the surge of power within him, and gave into it. His eyes turned black, as did his hair and nails, and he smiled cruelly.

Buffy saw the transformation, and saw the change in style. Instead of the cautious and defensive attacks that had been his style until that moment, now he attacked with inhuman ferocity. Every movement tinged with determination. To her astonishment, she saw Philippe grimace under some of the blows, which only seemed to increase the speed and accuracy of the attacks. With every strike that hit home, it appeared as if Gabriel let out a little sigh, such as those she had often done under physical assertion of a very different kind. _Is he getting off on the pain he is inflicting_, she thought to herself.

Allowing herself one more glance back to see that Giles was indeed fine, Buffy settled her breathing, and focused her mind only on the task at hand. She thought about the three words, defence, justice and nobility, and allowed those words to enter her thoughts and her soul.

Willow walked through the doorway, and entered the chamber that lay beyond. It was bare, save for the tapestries that lined the walls. Images of legendary women, strong women, powerful women and, unlike the cheesy art of many a fantasy scribe, they were tastefully and properly armoured and clothed for the period. No chain mail bikinis to be seen.

"They were the great warriors of their age. I could have given you such power, Willow. You could have been a tapestry to rival these great figures." Morgana's voice seemed oddly sad, as if her offer had been at some level genuine, but the layer of venom that coated her words seemed more telling of her priorities.

"I have enough power. Enough to do this!" Willow thrust her hand forward, Ancient words following them as she pointed them towards Morgana.

Morgana could feel the choking vapours that engulfed her, felt the lack of air and for a brief moment, felt a little death escape her. She smiled. "So, you've come to show me 'a little death'. Well, this could be more fun than I had anticipated. Ready to dance, lover?"

With a nonchalant wave of her hand, Morgana cleared the vapours from around her and focused back on Willow. Now Willow could feel the ground before her shake, the very stones that she stood upon felt soft, and she could feel herself sink, slowly.

Amy launched her fireball, determined to keep Tara on the ropes. She had underestimated the witch's power, and found herself in a battle she realised that she could not win without devious tactics.

Focusing her attention completely on Amy, Tara cut the distance between them in moments. Catching Amy off-guard with the speed of her movement, Tara clenched her fist and lashed out. Her punch caught Amy across the left cheek, knocking her to the ground.

Amy felt the sting on her cheek, the warmth in her mouth from the blood. She stared at Tara, malice her only thought. With a swipe of her hand in the air, Amy ripped through Tara's flesh at her knee, knocking the witch to the ground. "Bitch. Eh? I'll show you what a witch can really do when she's pissed!"

Amy's eyes blackened as she thrust both her hands towards Tara. The force threw Tara across the room, hitting the far wall and dropping her to the ground like a rag doll thrown by a child in a tantrum.

Tara tried to stand up, tried to gain her footing, but the gash in her knee was bleeding profusely, and she could feel her strength leaving her. She heard sounds from the through the doorway and saw Willow, attempting to pull herself from the quicksand floor that was forming beneath her. She knew that Willow was capable of levitation but saw that her lover couldn't rise, couldn't escape.

Willow struggled, unable to grasp any hand or foothold that would allow her to escape from the quicksand.

"You have two choices, Willow. You can sink here into this mud and drown, or you can join with me and I will add your power to my own. You die, either way, but at least the latter one allows you to die with some pleasure. You could even bring your lover. A little ménage e trois never hurt anyone."

"You disgust me! You won't touch me, or Tara. Not while we are alive!"

"Have it your way! But you may want to turn your head and say your goodbyes. Parting can be such a sweet sorrow, I hear!"

Willow looked to her right, out of the door she had entered and saw Tara there. She could see the blood from Tara's leg, and the weakened look in her eyes. Eyes fixed upon the blonde, Willow saw Tara mouth the words "Don't worry! I'll be okay!"

She saw the wall above Tara begin to shake and buckle. Tara, instinctively, was attempting to place a shield around herself. The wall broke, large boulders rained down upon Tara, knocking her down, and knocking her out.

Willow screamed out, her heart breaking with every crash of rubble. As the dust settled, she saw Tara lying there, blood trickling from her head. Tears rolled down Willow's cheeks, and it felt as if her very soul was escaping through her tear ducts.

Gabriel was enjoying himself, more than probably the Coven or the Avalon survivors would allow but here and now, he was in ecstasy. He knew that Buffy would soon take over, and Philippe would be defeated, but until then he could have his fun, and what fun it was.

Philippe tried his best to counter the ferocious flurry of attacks that came at him, but knew he was being hit time and again. Whilst his armoured skin protected him from cuts, he could still feel the blows, and they stung. This mortal man was hurting him, and he did not like that.

Buffy moved in now, her demeanour calm and focused upon Philippe. She swung Excalibur with a renewed sense of purpose. Raising the sword above her head, Buffy swung down onto Philippe. She saw Philippe's sword break from the strength of the blow, and the look of shock and fear in his eyes and expression. _The tide was turning_, she thought, _and now is the time to finish this_.

Dawn felt a sense of relief, the battle with Morgana's guards had taken a lot out of her and the magic used by the witch's followers had tested her as well but here she stood, still strong, still in one piece. She now accompanied Althanea and Michelle as they wandered the rooms of the castle, hoping that somewhere there would be something to give the Entwined an added edge. They had said Willow and Tara needed no edge, but as they were not yet the Entwined, they were leaving nothing to chance.

The castle corridors felt cold, no warmth emanated from the walls or even from the candles that intermittently lit the halls. Dawn felt the chill, but let it go. _Plenty of time to get cold later_, she thought.

They had climbed a set of stairs and now found themselves in the main bedchamber of Morgana. For a few instances, they saw no movement, and then they heard the slight and muffled breathing from the bed.

Michelle pulled back the bed covers, revealing an old woman, looking drained and dying. "What is your name, child?" Asked Michelle, her voice full of warm concern.

"Kerry." The response was weary and raspy.

"What's wrong with her?" Dawn asked.

"Morgana has fed from her. We are fortunate. We can save her life and help the Entwined." Althanea wandered around the room as she spoke, collecting items. "We can reverse the effects. Give Kerry her life force back and weaken Morgana in doing so."

"So how does she feed or don't I want to know?"

"Let me put it this way, there is an awful lot of energy that the body gives out during lovemaking. Morgana harnesses it, like a Succubus, keeping her young and powerful. Reducing her victims to hollowed-out corpses. We must have interrupted her in feeding." Michelle had a playful inflection to her voice, seeing the embarrassment that it was causing Dawn.

"Dawn, Michelle and I will require your assistance here in the circle. If we act now, we can give Morgana a real fright."

Gabriel opened his eyes. He was always grateful for the white magic that purged his system but it always left him feeling drained. He turned his head to the right, and saw a bemused Giles staring at him.

"So, is that how they keep you under control? Dosing you with the pure essence of magic."

"Worked on Miss Rosenberg."

"Willow was different. She was erratic. You knew what you were doing. Don't dare try and compare the two of you."

"I would disagree, Mister Giles, as do the Coven. And if we want to talk about willingly dabbling in black magic, I can think of a far better example." Gabriel stared directly into Giles' eyes, accusation in his gaze.

"Touché." Giles wanted to continue the argument, but knew that at some level at least, the young Watcher was right. Besides, the gash on his leg wouldn't heal by itself.

"Now, let me help you with that wound, Mister Giles. That is, if you don't feel I might get off on not helping you."

Philippe retreated. He could feel the inevitable road he was now on and was determined to keep his fate off until it was unavoidable. But he wanted to take the Slayer down with him. At his feet he saw a sword. Not runic, but whole. In one majestic, athletic move he back-flipped, grabbing the sword en route and landed in a defensive posture.

Buffy was impressed at the athletic skill, and secretly glad. As much as she knew the danger this man posed, she still had a hard time with the concept of killing an unarmed foe. But now he was armed, and that meant she could clear her conscience and take the only action left to her.

Buffy swung, once more slicing across the mid rift. She saw Philippe swing the sword down to block the approaching blade, and twisted in the air. With blinding speed and precision Buffy changed the attack to an overhead downward slice. Philippe was unable to move, unable to block.

The blade cleaved Philippe's head in two down the centre. Excalibur continued its downward force, Buffy unaware of the fact that her blow had succeeded. The blade continued, cutting through Philippe's organs and ribs as it followed its downward course.

Buffy could feel it stop, and looked down to se what had stopped it, and saw another blade there, halting its progress. She recognised the blade, and turned to see Gabriel standing beside her.

"I couldn't stop it. It just went through. Everything happened so fast. One second the sword was above my head, the next you've got your blade on it."

"Never seen it used quite so successfully, Miss Summers. You truly are noble of spirit. No wonder you took on all comers in Sunnydale. But you've done your duty. The rest is up to the Entwined."

Willow felt the quicksand around her waist, pulling her further down. She wiped the tears from her eyes. She knew that any struggling would cause her to sink even lower. So Willow kept still, praying to the Goddesses if they wanted to listen to send her help, or at least speed her demise. The waiting was the most terrifying.

Willow glanced once more at Tara's body, with Amy standing over her. It wasn't meant to be this way. Weren't they meant to be together forever?

"Poor, poor Willow. And the sad part is, you will die and go wherever your kind go and Tara will be in the Veil and you will never again meet. As punishments go, it is a truly fitting one. You have Amy to thank for that." Morgana couldn't help her cold, callous chuckle at the cruelty of it all.

Willow closed her eyes. For her the light had gone, and now she wished to see nothing. She felt cold, a gnawing emptiness that filled her. The emptiness that had once caused her to nearly fry the world in retribution's flames.

Willow breathed out, and felt a warmth within her, a warmth that grew to embrace her. She knew who it was, could feel it within her. _Tara?_

_I'm here. Nice thing about a light show, it can hide what you are doing._

_Is this one goodbye before you go?_

_Only place I am going is back in my body once we have defeated Morgana. _

_You're not dead?_

_Hope not! Not planning on it anytime soon!_

Willow opened her eyes, which dazzled white and clear. She spread her arms out and raised herself out of the quicksand by thought alone.

Morgana retreated, this was not going as she had expected. She signalled to Amy to come to her side, to aid her.

Willow threw her right arm out, pushing Amy back through the void. "Deal with you in a moment!" Her voice was that of the Entwined. Willow and Tara spoke the words in unison, the voices coming together as a harmonious symphony.

"Together? How? It's not possible!"

"I told Willow long ago, without knowledge, power becomes dangerous. You have power, Morgana, but no knowledge of its source or its potential. Instead you use it for petty thrills and power plays. All so mighty, yet so weak. And you are about to get a lot weaker."

Morgana could feel it, her strength waning, her body crippling in front of their eyes. She tried to hold on to the energy that was leaving her, but could not.

"It is working. I can feel the young girl's energy returning to its rightful vessel." Althanea kept her eyes closed, allowing the energy to wash over her, towards Kerry.

"Feeling faint, Morgana?" The Entwined asked.

"What have you done to me?" Morgana could see small lines across her hands and arms, the lines of wrinkled age.

"Your last victim. You didn't drain them completely did you? They have their life force back again now. And that makes you just a little easier to deal with."

"I will not allow you to take Wyngarde from me. There will be no happy ending for the Court of Dreams. The New World will not be protected from our forces. We have our stronghold and you will not break it."

The Entwined smiled, her eyes burned white, black and then red. She raised her arms, arcane words and phrases uttered from a dark and deep voice.

Morgana tried to run, tried to shield herself, from the end. She felt the pain, the sphere of light that surrounded her, cutting her off from all around her. She could feel her life ebbing away from her as the sphere tightened around her. It gripped her, choking her, squeezing her as the energy of a thousand other lives were wrestled from her, taking to the air like fireflies.

The Entwined watched the light in Morgana's eyes dim as she fell limply to the floor. She looked at her prey impassively. She felt at peace, whole once more.

Amy appeared, shrieking as she attacked. The shock of the bolt was enough to knock the Entwined off balance. Her eyes became human once more.

Willow stood up, she felt calmer now. She looked at Amy, and smiled. "You know you can't take me. You saw what I did to Morgana and you know I can do that and worse to you. You have one chance, Amy. Back down or go down!"

"She was weak. Besides, I killed your girlfriend, I can easily kill you." Amy's eyes were cold, her voice unfeeling.

"Take more than you to kill me" said a voice from behind Amy.

Amy turned and saw Tara standing there. "How? What? How?"

"You will never know! Willow, get out of here. Tell them Morgana is dead and all is well. Don't worry about me sweetie, Amy won't hurt me."

"I'm not leaving you again." Willow could barely hide the breaking of her voice.

Tara relented. "Okay, but just make sure she can't leave."

Amy had wondered why she did not attack whilst the couple talked. Truth was she couldn't believe the calmness on their voices, the way in which she was being seen as a mere irritant, rather than a serious threat. Amy felt her anger renew itself. _How dare they treat me like a fly in their soup_!

"Amy, Willow is giving you the chance to back down, to walk away from all of this and it is a reasonable offer. Me, on the other hand, I'm not so inclined. I won't kill you, I don't agree with that, but I will make your life more 'comfortable' for you. So I suggest you take her offer. She still wants to help you, as she always has, and always did. Me, I want to see you get what's coming to you. Make your choice".

"If you won't kill me, then you don't have any leverage." Amy launched her fireball at Tara. She watched it as Tara gently blew on it as it approached, watching it snuff itself out.

"Very well. Vermin you are, vermin you once were, vermin you will be once more".

Amy struggled but could feel her body morph and change. She knew that to the outside observer the change would seem instantaneous, but to her it seemed to go for minutes. And in those minutes she felt every change, every bone break, every growth of knew appendages, every shift of organs within her.

Willow stared at Amy the Rat, as she appeared in a blinding flash, complete with cage.. "Guess she won't cause any trouble now. Did you have to do that, Tara?"

"Willow, she is rotten through and through. There could have been hope for her at some stage. Maybe the Coven could have worked with her as they did with you but whilst the change was happening you would be in danger, and I won't have that. This way we can keep an eye on her. I won't have her drag you down and hurt you again, Will."

"I don't want anyone dragging me down again." Willow embraced her girl. Right now, she felt the luckiest woman alive.

"C'mon. We better tell them all its all over."

Giles was lifted into a more comfortable seating position by Gabriel and Buffy, watching as from one doorway Dawn, Michelle and Althanea entered and from the other Willow, Tara and a caged rat appeared.

"All is well, I assume for the looks on your faces." He said, as much to himself as to the gathered throng.

"Morgana is gone. She said something about the New World, and that we wouldn't stop them."

"We will deal with that all in good time, Miss Rosenberg, Miss Maclay. Well done on your first victory. I am impressed. Joseph was right about you both." Gabriel gave as much of a smile as he could.

"I would really like to get out of here. Place gives me the creeps." Buffy said in her usual light manner.

Giles always enjoyed the fact that post-battle, his Slayer and her friends seemed to be able to lighten the mood with a simple remark.

"Votes for getting out of here then?" Asked Dawn, trying to sound authoritarian. She saw all hands rise up, and smiled. "I think that was safely unanimous."

Willow and Tara led the way back to the bus. Walking hand in hand, enjoying the peace of just being together. They glanced at each other, allowing themselves a relaxed smile.

Buffy walked up beside them. "Not that I'm complaining too much, but if you guys were going to get back together, couldn't you have come up with a slightly less angsty way of doing it?"

They laughed, it was the relaxed laugh of friends who had seen death up close and lived to talk about it. For those moments they always felt invincible.

"What do you think, Gabriel?" Asked Michelle.

"I think if they accept the offer we have work to do but they are very good. I never saw the rat thing coming at all."

"Masterson won't allow any mercy to shine through."

"I know, but it appears they won't allow the coldness to define their humanity. Now that is strength."

"You admire them, don't you?"

"Getting there. I can see why Joseph put his faith in them."

"They will need you. Masterson has a lot of danger."

"I'll look after them. I promise."

END OF CHAPTER


	18. Epilogue

Epilogue

It was the following evening. The previous night had been used for sleep and the morning for reuniting children with mothers and surrogate parents. It had been the calm following the storm but now they all sat in Althanea's dining room, serious expressions on their faces.

Willow and Tara were at the head of the table. Giles and Buffy flanked them, Roger Wyndham-Pryce sat next to Giles whilst Dawn sat next to Buffy. Beside Dawn was Gabriel with Michelle across from him. Althanea herself sat at the other end of the table.

The meal had been lovely, as had been the wine but now the thoughts turned to more important matters.

"So what is you need?" Asked Willow.

Althanea smiled, and began to speak. "Centuries ago, the Fey from the Court of Nightmares decided to take advantage of the sailing of the Pilgrim fathers to try and take an entire realm of the mortal world for their own. The Old world was out of their influence, as it was populated by too many who knew how to deal with faeries of all kinds. The Third World relied too much on tribal magic, and would have been devastating to the Fey. So they chose instead the New World, full of new opportunities. There were problems of course, but the Fey have a way of influencing mankind, and the Nightmare Court polluted the hearts of the men and before long the first real enemy they had, the native American tribes, were dealt with by allowing just the right amount of negative thinking to fester in the minds of the Colonists."

Michelle then continued. "Even witches were dealt with, for they are amongst the Fey's greatest fear. After the events of Salem, the Court of Dreams vowed to do something to ensure that Massachusetts would never again be a haven for evil. We failed for many years. But slowly, we managed to gain some foothold in there, and we have begun to turn the tide. Unfortunately, the Nightmare Court has placed a lot of emphasis and resource on the eastern coast of America and it is under its influence in most of the major cities there."

Althanea started once more. "However, events in Massachusetts in the past years have led us to believe that the Court of Nightmares is losing its hold there and that is where we will regain influence and try and stem the dark. The time is critical, and the Fey one day believed that there would come the Entwined, who would aid stem the tide of evil and bring the light back."

"Okay, this is what I don't get. You say this is gonna be a battle, yet you say you don't need a Slayer." Buffy sounded concerned. After all this time, Willow was still her friend she wanted to protect from the evils of the world.

"War of hearts and minds, Miss Summers. The kind of dangers Willow and Tara will face aren't always physical, and those that are can be easily enough despatched. More over, the Fey win by influence, example and suggestion. Subtle arts, Miss Summers, not a Slayer's strong suit. The ripple effect is the greatest weapon. The idea that one glimmer of light can stem the darkness by reflecting from its source through the people it touches, growing in intensity as it does so. It is the same technique the Enemy has used to gain its control, but using fear and our basest prejudices. Easier to manipulate, true, but not as lasting. The Entwined can be the Beacon, or so the prophecy says." Gabriel rose as he finished speaking, heading for the drinks cabinet. "Refill anyone?"

Giles cleared his throat. "But you do expect some danger there, yes? How do you propose to deal with the physical forces that will align against them? Whilst I know that Willow and Tara can take on anything magical neither of them are physically strong, not for that kind of work."

Althanea smiled at Giles. "They will be given a guardian, a bodyguard if you like, who is tasked with looking out for them and aiding them in any research that may be required when encountering a new danger. Very much as a Watcher, but he will deal with the physical extremities of battle, such as there may be. You must understand, Rupert, that if the Entwined do as I think they will, battles such as the one we have had to deal with here will be rare, if at all. Besides, we trust him implicitly." As she said it her eyes flicked to Gabriel.

"He's a sadist! A mass murderer! He betrayed the Council and everything it stood for! You can't possibly be considering him for Guardianship."

"The decision is not yours, Rupert. The decision lies with the Entwined. But Gabriel knows far more about this situation than any Watcher or Slayer and he has done a great deal of leg work in securing the Entwined what they require to live day to day in Masterson."

Tara squinted. "Masterson?"

"Yes, Miss Maclay. Irony wasn't lost on the prophecy writers, it seems. We were searching for some sign of the Master's Son, as it was written, looking for some holy sign. Turns out that one of the main leaders of Salem had a son who moved away from Salem, taking with him refugees and set up his own town about four hours drive away, by today's standards. He set himself up pretty much as his father did but his place was not quite as judgmental. Anyway, the town took the name Masterson and has remained ever since. We have renovated the old house that the Son used. Big place, lots of space for a sacred circle in the attic or basement. Quite nice actually." Gabriel's voice was calm, his eyes never leaving her gaze, until Giles spoke again, re-focusing his attention on Buffy's Watcher.

"All very nice, but there is no way you can possibly expect me to counsel Willow and Tara to put their faith in this psychopath."

"Mister Giles, let's not band around with who owns what title, 'Ripper'. I did what I did, you might not like me for it but your opinion doesn't hold for much. Not here, not now. Joseph trusted me, that should be enough for you. Michelle trusts me, as does Althanea. No one will harm the Entwined on my watch. Besides, I won't be alone."

Michelle rose, crossed the distance and placed a gentle hand on Giles' shoulder. "Rupert, more than anyone, you know what grief can do to someone. Gabriel did a terrible thing but I know one person who came close to out doing his crime and she was brought back. We helped Gabriel a lot when he came to us, that's why we knew we could help Willow. In a strange way, he is the reason we could cure her. He has never betrayed us, and he has helped set things in motion here. Believe me, Rupert, if I thought for a moment that Gabriel posed a threat to the Entwined or their safety, I wouldn't let him near them. But he does not, he is the best chance they have. And if they can aid him in finding some peace, they may well be able to exceed our hopes and expectations."

Giles wanted to fight, but knew it was not his battle. "Willow, Tara. This man is a violent and sadistic killer who will use any excuse to wallow in violence and torture. He gets pleasure, gratification from inflicting pain on others. He is unstable."

"What Rupert has said is true but he does leave out one thing, the thing he does not know. Gabriel is loyal to a fault, which is why his crime was so heinous. But he will defend you to the end. He is a smart man with a great deal of knowledge on Celtic lore and Fey legends, which will be invaluable. He is well known in Masterson thanks to his bookshop and he has already placed the news that his cousin and her partner are moving to take posts at the local high school. Your arrival will not cause many eyes to perk out of place and the Nightmare Court and its allies will be caught unawares. Gabriel and Dash will help any way they can. He is your bodyguard, general dogsbody, Watcher, Weapons trainer if you wish. He will not let you down." Althanea smiled at them both as she sat back down, taking a glass of wine from Gabriel.

Willow and Tara looked at each other, and nodded. Willow stood up. "We have no problems with Gabriel. Tara and I feel that he knows what he is doing and I trust you, Althanea. Plus, I know more than anyone how dark things can get. If I can be given a second chance, then so can Gabriel. One thing though, Gabriel, Betray us and we won't be as forgiving."

Gabriel nodded. "Acceptable terms, Miss Rosenberg."

Tara stood up beside her. "One small problem, it won't be the two of us. It's three. I won't leave without Heather with us. I made her a promise."

Gabriel nodded, and placed on the dining table a phone that had been sitting to one side. "That reminds me." His fingers punched a speed dial sequence.

"White Circle Book Store." The voice on the speakerphone was English and sounded aggressively cheerful.

"Dash, it's me. You're on speaker phone so best language please."

"Hi, Gabe. What's the word?"

"Really depends on you. You get the school sorted out for the girl?"

Willow and Tara both looked at Gabriel, surprised at the question.

"Everything is ready. School is shut for the Summer vacation but come the Autumn re-start she will be in. Nice school, about five minutes from the shop so we can take turns in picking her up."

"One will assume that either you were using the royal 'we' or you have developed multiple personalities in my absence. We indeed!"

"All right, grumpy. But everything is set. Masterson High School are screaming for the paperwork."

"Will be faxed to them today. The Entwined will be bringing the originals of course. You get the books I asked for?"

"No, I decided to rebel and not bother. Of course I got them for you. Dunno how much they will teach these two about their subjects."

"Should do the trick. Any excitement?"

"Nothing. Mrs Forsby called but that was about it."

Tara could see Gabriel wince at the mention of the name. "Fan of yours?"

"Extremely prolific but annoyingly difficult customer. Great money, bad for my good humour."

"Was that one of them?" Asked Dash.

"Yes. Forgive me my manners are appalling. Dash, I introduce Miss Willow Rosenberg and Miss Tara Maclay. Ladies, this is Dash, my friend and assistant."

"Hi, Dash". Said the Entwined in unison.

"Hello, Ladies. It will be a pleasure to meet you in person."

"Dash, make sure all the wards are active in the shop and the house. There's plenty of food in the fridge in my flat so stay there until we head in. Should be there fairly soon. Don't be messing with the stereo and NO booking porn movies on my cable. I mean it."

"Okay. Pleasure to meet you, ladies. Ah, customers, better go. Catch you when you get here."

Tara looked at Gabriel. "You knew, didn't you? You knew I wouldn't leave without her."

"I suspected, yes. I may be a bastard, Miss Maclay, but I am not a monster. Besides, this war is coming, and without protection Heather would be an easy target for the Enemy if she wasn't with you both."

"And what about this paperwork?"

"Jobs. Fighting the forces of evil may be spiritually rewarding, Tara, but it doesn't pay the bills. So we gained you employment in the local high school. We feel that you are suited to the jobs and more over, we also feel the teenagers are the most vulnerable and will need your guidance." Michelle smiled at Tara, trying to reassure her that this was not a case of manipulation.

"What jobs exactly?" asked Willow.

"Teaching! At least teaching for you, Miss Rosenberg. You have a great talent for computers and you have taught high school students before. As for Miss Maclay, we feel her natural talent for empathy and understanding make her a perfect guidance counsellor. You do not have to accept these posts, ladies, but we wanted to give you something that had purpose, was within your abilities, that got you near to the most vulnerable so you can aid and protect them, and gave you a nice pay cheque at the end of the week."

Willow looked at Tara. "They have pretty much thought of everything."

Tara nodded. "Yes, I guess it comes down to us two now."

"Yes, it does. You carry all our hopes. I know it is a burden, but if we did not think you could do it, we would not ask it of you." Althanea embraced Willow.

"Give us a few moments, and we will tell you our answer." Willow said, taking Tara by the hand and going to a small room just outside the dining area.

"Well, they seem pretty determined. And I want to help. I stayed in Sunnydale rather than go to college elsewhere because I wanted to help people. I still do, I feel I need to. And this is something we can do, together. If you want?" Willow's voice was tinged with nervous anticipation. She feared rejection even now.

"Yes. Are you ready for life as a mother and a wife?" Tara smiled at Willow with her lop-sided grin that Willow found so infectious.

"I'm ready. Masterson then?"

Tara nodded. "Masterson it is."

THE END OF 

**THE RAVEN AND THE DOVE**

**BUT WILLOW AND TARA WILL RETURN IN**

**FATHER FIGURE**


End file.
